


How To Train Your Auror

by MrBenzedrine89



Series: How To Train Your Auror [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Complete, F/M, Falling In Love, Fingerfucking, Good Draco Malfoy, Love, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Oral Sex, Plot Twists, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 134,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7987126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrBenzedrine89/pseuds/MrBenzedrine89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: After the tragic death of Ron, Hermione decides to take up his torch and become an Auror herself, despite Harry's protests. When she discovers that Draco Malfoy has also made the decision to apply himself to be an Auror, she must come to terms with her distaste for him in order to pass training. But what dark secrets does Malfoy hold? COMPLETE. Rated M for lemons and adult themes.  *2nd Place: Fall 2016 Dramione Awards (Best Crime/Mystery Fic)*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aurors Never Age

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on fanfiction.net, and I am uploading it onto here, as well as its sequel: How To Train Your Auror 2, Family Ties. This work is my favorite bit I've ever written, so, please, give it a go. If you love compelling plots, romance, hot sex, and Dramione, this is the fic for you.  
> ~A.

**_How To Train Your Auror_ **

_Summary: After the tragic death of Ron, Hermione decides to take up his torch and become an Auror herself, despite Harry's protests. When she discovers that Draco Malfoy has also made the decision to apply himself to be an Auror, she must come to terms with her distaste for him in order to pass training. Can Hermione balance her new position, the death of Ron, and her now found alliance with Malfoy? And what dark secrets does he hold? Rated M for later chapters._

* * *

**Cause I'm kicking up stones without you**   
**Can't pick up the phone without you**   
**I'm a little bit lost without you**   
**Without you**

**And I'm digging down holes without you**   
**Can't be on my own without you**   
**I'm a little bit lost without you**   
**Without you**

**Step out into the dark**   
**Where were you when I was trying**   
**To lift up, carry the love**   
**Do you know?**

**That I've been closing my eyes**   
**Love me slow, hallucinating**   
**Swinging me all of your light**   
**Do you know?**

**"Without You" by Oh Wonder**

* * *

It was in the moments like these Hermione thought to herself, resting daisies on her late husband's grave, when all the world could melt away. She didn't have to be strong like Harry, or consoling like Ginny. She could let her tears fall softly down her cheeks without so much as an awkward condolence. ' _Sorry for your loss_.' ' _Let us know if there's anything we can do._ ' Hollow words that didn't merit any real sustenance. It's just what one is supposed to hear when a loved one passed, wasn't it? She doubted anyone truly understood how terrible those simple words could be.

She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his headstone. "Rest, Ronald," she whispered. Her cell phone buzzed in her pants pocket, but she ignored it for now. She re-read the inscription at the base of the stone: 'A friend, A husband, A War hero.' So many masks he would wear day to day… So many masks for them all. She swiped at her tears with her knuckles and stood. Her phone hummed once again, and she took the time to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hermione." It was Harry's exhausted voice. He hesitated for a moment, and then continued. "Please, tell me you aren't serious."

"I'm serious of most things, Harry. You'll have to be more specific."

"Have- Have you been crying?"

So he could hear it in her voice? She shouldn't have been surprised. She took a moment to clear her throat and wipe at a few more stray tears before she answered him. "Visiting Ron today."

She could almost imagine his head bobbing up and down in understanding. "I see. -Hermione, I don't think he'd want you to do this."

"Do what?"

"You know what." When she didn't reply, he sighed, exasperated. "An _Auror_ position? Did you _really_ apply for an Auror position in the Ministry last week?"

She closed her eyes, exhaled through her nose, and shrugged to no one in particular. "I'm applying for an Auror position, Harry. You'll see my credentials are quite in order. In fact, I dare say they go above and beyond a normal applicant-"

"My weariness doesn't stem from your credentials, Hermione. -What are you thinking? Do you really think this is what Ron would have wanted for you?"

Heat flared up from her core and she said her next words with a crisp, irritated tone. "He's _gone_ , Harry. He can't _tell us_ what he'd want for me. For any of us. But this is what _I_ want for me. And I'm capable of this. I'm not weak-"

"-It's not that I think you can't do this. It's that I don't think you _should_. After everything that's happened in the last six months… I just…"

Hermione felt her heart plummet. She struggled to find the words to address his concerns. But if she was going to do this, she needed to be stronger. She knew that six months ago, she would have been bawling her eyes out at the thought of moving on or finding her place in this Ron-less world. But time had tempered her into something ridged and complex. The sadness was there, but it was layered with emotional steel. She wouldn't be the puddle of tears she had been for so long. She was going to be tougher than even she thought possible. "I have to do this. And The Ministry can't deny me. Not with them hurting for Aurors nowadays."

"Alright, Hermione. Alright." He sighed. "We'll… owl you when training starts. Just… be careful, alright? I'll be here for you if you need any help."

She knew he would. But she didn't want his help. She needed to do this on her own. "Thanks, Harry."

"Ginny sends her love."

"Send mine back."

The line on the other end went silent as he ended the call. Hermione stowed her phone back into her pocket and glanced around at all the graves in Willow's Point. For each headstone, a life was snuffed out. A life, that perhaps, was gone before its time. If she could just save one… just one…

She turned back to Ron's headstone and forced a smile. "I miss you, Ron. Every day. You were such a good soul. So, I'm going to do some good in your stead. I love you."

She left the daisies on his grave, humming something Ron had once said their first time meeting.

"Sunshine daises… butter mellow…"

* * *

It was in moments like these that Draco thought to himself, holding his newborn child in his arms, when all the world fizzled out to nothingness. A baby boy. So small. So delicate. He couldn't believe that fate had dealt him such a lucky hand. The way his pudgy fingers wrapped around Draco's thumb stirred an emotion within the prideful father that he hadn't felt in such a long time -remorse. Remorse for all of the stupid, selfish things he had done in the past.

He looked up to his wife, Astoria, who smiled warmly back at him. The nurse next to her checked her vitals as she yawned, exhausted from labor. "What shall we name him?"

Draco looked down at the tiny bundle and knew just the name. "Scorpius. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy."

"What a wonderful name," the nurse said, patting Astoria on the hand.

He looked from the nurse, to his wife, and then said, "Might we have a moment alone?"

"Of course." The nurse excused herself, leaving the happy couple to themselves. But it would only be pleasant for a moment longer, he knew, because what he had to say next would surely not go over well. Astoria tucked a lock of her chestnut colored hair behind her ear, eyes heavy with dark circles.

"What is it, Draco?"

"Who says there was something to say?" he muttered, looking down into his son's grey blue eyes that so matched his own.

"I know you. What's wrong?"

Draco's stomach churned as he tried to play back his practiced speech in his mind. He had gone over it for weeks now, thought out every detail, but when it came down to it he knew, despite his cunning tongue, that he would not be able to put a pleasant spin on this. So he said simply, "You have to promise not to be angry with me."

"What?" Her eyebrows drew together in concern. "Why would I be mad, Draco? Is it another woman?"

He laughed, taken aback by the direction in which her mind went and shook his head. "No. Nothing quite like that. Something much worse, I'm afraid." His eyes wandered over Scorpius's chubby cheeks and tiny ears. No. He was doing the right thing, he assured himself. He stared at his son as he whispered, "Daddy's been accepted to be an Auror."

He didn't dare look up, but he knew from the silence that his wife was not pleased. Her body shifted on the bed, and she was quiet for a long time. "An Auror?" He swallowed and brought his gaze up to hers. Her green eyes shimmered disgust as the corners of her mouth pulled down. "When? When did you do this?"

"I applied three months ago," he answered honestly. "But I only received my notice three days ago. I wanted to tell you, really I did… but I knew you wouldn't be pleased."

"Well of course I'm not pleased," she said quietly. "How could I ever be pleased about something like that? Do you remember what our fathers would say about Aurors? Remember the phrase?"

" _Aurors never age_."

"That's right. Aurors never age. And do you know why they never age? Because they never live long enough _to_ age!" She slammed her fists down on the bed. Scorpius squirmed in his father's arms and began to cry.

"Now look what you've done," scolded Draco.

"What I've done? It's what _I've_ done, is it? What about what _you've_ done?" Her voice rose as tears trickled down her cheeks. "You'd leave your family to die?"

"Who says I'd die? That's hardly any faith in me, Astoria."

"Faith? The only faith I have is that you've ruined this family," she said coldly. "What kind of life will Scorpius have if his father is dead in the ground with maggots crawling through his eyes? What kind of life would I have as a widow? Did you give any of this thought before you jumped into some idiotic pledge of loyalty to the Ministry?"

"Of course I did! Do you honestly think I did this to punish our family?"

"But why?"

"I don't have to explain my reasons to you."

"I'm your wife."

"And I'm your _husband_. You should support my endeavors." He kissed Scorpius delicately on the forehead and quietly handed him back to Astoria.

"This isn't an endeavor, Draco. This is a death wish." She tucked her newborn infant in the crook of her arms and looked to her husband. "I will not support this."

"Lucky for me; I don't need your permission." An anger spread like an egg being cracked over his head, and he strolled over to the door. "I'm to be inducted in three weeks. Can we not spend that time fighting?" It broke his heart to leave the room, but he had to before he lost his temper. He said nothing else as he left, and when the door shut behind him he brought his shaking hands up to his face to look at them. "I have to do this." He jabbed a fist out and punched the bricks of the Manor wall. The pain ricocheted up his arm and cried out in his shoulder, but he didn't care. He welcomed it. He gazed at his scraped knuckles and sighed. "I have to do this," he said again, as if to convince himself. He glanced back at the door, knowing he should go back to console his wife, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he turned and walked away to the staircase, his resolve never more shaken. He would do this. He had to. Astoria would have to forgive him. He had no plans of dying -not before he made amends for every terrible sin he'd ever done, and for the one that kept him awake at night.

As he took to the stairs, he hummed a wordless tune his mother would sing to him when he was down. He was going to need more than an old hymn, however, if he was going to get through this with his sanity intact.

* * *

**_How To Train Your Auror_ **

* * *

_ Auror Training, Day 1 _

The room they kept the trainees in for orientation was small, dingy, and smelled thickly of mold. Twenty chairs, paired in groups of two at large work benches, offered seating to hopeful applicants. Hermione took a seat at the front, and, having been one of the first to arrive, prepared her desk. She brought out a quill, some ink, parchment, and spelled them all to work together to take whatever notes necessary. This had been frowned upon back at Hogwarts, but this was the real world, she thought dutifully, and she didn't think she'd have much time to take notes herself.

She pulled out a book from her bag and began to read as she waited while other trainees filed in. She didn't get much of a chance to skim her book, however, because someone plopped down in the seat next to her with a wide grin on his face.

"Allo, Hermione." It was none other than Dean Thomas. His white teeth sparkled in the light of the wall bewitched to look like a window overlooking a courtyard.

"Dean," Hermione grinned back at him. "I haven't seen you in ages. I didn't know you'd be joining Auror training."

"You're one to talk. Look at you." He gestured to her readied desk supplies. "Thought I'd catch you dead before I saw you join the Auror club." He blanched. "Sorry. That was… a terrible choice of words. I only meant that I didn't expect to see you here…"

"Well… things have changed, haven't they?" Hermione chewed on her lower lip in thought. Dean took her implication and nodded in response. She wasn't the only one who had lost a friend that day. He began to fidget with the bottom of his shirt. "So…" she said, trying to bring the subject back round. "You want to be an Auror as well."

"I've tried twice now. I'm brilliant when it comes to the field work, but you put a written exam in front of me and my brain sort of fizzles out. –Maybe, with you here, I might stand a better chance." He flashed her hopeful eyes.

"I won't help you cheat, Dean."

"Oh, come on, Hermione. You know I only meant to study is all."

She smiled down at her lap. "Well, I am rather good at that."

"Brilliant."

The two got to talking so that Hermione hardly paid attention as the room began to fill up with potential Aurors. When the 9AM bell chimed, she found herself feeling much like she had back in Hogwarts, awaiting lessons. A swivel of black robes came from the door in the back, and a handsome looking gentleman greeted the lot with a small, humbled wave of his hand as he approached the front. Tucked under his arm was a stack of papers, no doubt case files with each applicant. He sat them on the desk, then leaned back on the front of the desk and looked over his squires.

"Hello." He said, crossing his arms. "I'm Chief Commander, Auror Gregory Wallace Diggle."

There was a stir in the room as many of the younger candidates, fresh out of Hogwarts and the like, burst into gossiping chatter. Hermione had heard tales of Auror Diggle from the Dailey Prophet. He was a decorated war hero, and having been only slightly older than Hermione herself, was acclaimed one of the brightest Aurors of his time. Even Harry had conceded to his brilliance at one time or another. Hermione recalled Ron used to snort his nose up at him, which probably meant that Diggle was just as good as the papers claimed. When her thoughts sifted over her memories of Ron, her stomach instantly plummeted.

Diggle put his hand up, and the room hushed. "I'll be training the sodding lot of you most days. On the days that I'm unable, Auror Potter will sub for me. -Some of you may know me personally from this bunch." He glanced over at Hermione's table and waved a gleeful hand to Dean. "Some of you know me by my reputation. –But I want to make it clear now: however you know me, I am simply Auror Diggle here. I'm just a regular bloke, like you. Any brown nosing will get you nowhere but with shite on your nose, I'm afraid. –There are twenty hopeful Aurors in training this session. Only ten of you will make the cut. Over the next three months, we'll be buckling down on you, giving you vigorous hands on training, as well as testing your knowledge on skills and hand to hand combat. You might have passed the initial credentials, but that doesn't mean your position is secure. You'll have to prove that to myself and my counterparts. In two weeks, we will cut four of you. This is a dangerous position. There can be casualties. You must always be prepared." His voice was solemn as he picked up the first file on his desk and read out loud. "Right, we'll start rollcall. If you are late, for any reason that hasn't been approved already by myself or the Minister, you will be cut immediately. –Arsinth?"

A young boy, no older than seventeen with floppy brown hair, nearly jumped out of his chair as he stood. "Here, sir."

Diggle smirked, flashed the room a wink, and said, "Relax, Arsinth. This isn't a muggle military."

"Sir." Arsinth nodded, taking a seat, red flooding his cheeks.

"Buckingham?"

Diggle read down the list, acknowledging each applicant with a firm smile or a warm nod of the head. When he called out Hermione's name, there was another round of whispers through the room. Hermione thought at first it was because of her reputation as a War hero, and perhaps some of it was, but a bulky bloke in the back with a face full of pimples muttered, "A woman Auror. What is this world coming to?"

Auror Diggle heard, because his head shot up immediately. Hermione, unsure if she should take her seat or not, stood awkwardly as he said, "What was that?"

"Nothing, Sir."

"No. That was something." He rose from his leaned position on the desk and glanced around at the room. "Let me make one thing clear. Hermione Granger is a decorated War hero. The great Harry Potter would be dead if it wasn't for her, so if anyone has anything to say about a woman Auror, you can kindly take your opinions and shove them up your arse before you resign from the Ministry. –Hermione, you can sit down any time."

"Oh. Right." She felt her cheeks burn as she took her seat and stared blankly down at her spelled quill, which had written down Diggle's words as a footnote. If she wasn't so fumed over the entire ordeal, she might have giggled.

"Right." He picked up his stack of papers and went on. "Next on the list…" He hesitated for a moment, and Hermione pulled her eyes away from her paper to watch him find his voice again. "…Malfoy."

There was a squeak as a chair pulled against the floor, and then the sound of a body shifting from its seated position. Hermione turned her head. Surely she had heard wrong. But then her eyes drifted to the back, to where an all too familiar wizard stood proudly. He had aged since their last encounter as teenagers, and the grey eyes he was known for no longer held their bright sheen. Somewhere in the time between then and now, his shoulders had filled out, making him appear bulkier despite his lean frame. There were lines around his mouth, and his hair was longer. But the one thing that had not changed in all that time was his smirk that danced gracefully along his thin lips. "Present."

Diggle stared at him, unamused. "Mr. Malfoy, while your family has entitlement and status in the wizarding community, here you are simply one of my wards. You will address me as Auror Diggle or Sir if you wish to continue your training."

Malfoy's cheeks flared a brilliant shade of red, and he took his seat, mumbling ' _Sir._ '

After the War, she had always wondered what had become of the Malfoy family. They had managed to avoid Azkaban by claiming changes in sides last minute, but that hadn't let them off of the hook from those who knew better. It had been nine years since that encounter in the Malfoy Manor. Hermione still had the scars to remind her that there were still wizards who would look down on her for nothing more than her heritage. She wondered to herself how the Ministry had ever considered Malfoy's application in the first place.

She wasn't the only one.

Dean leaned over and whispered, "It must be a cold day in Hell for the Ministry to be that desperate. Never thought I'd see the day."

Hermione said nothing but inwardly agreed. Auror Diggle continued on with roll call until he had sifted through each applicant, and then clapped his hands together. "Wonderful. So glad to know you -even if I'll only know some of you for a very short time. Now, on to my next announcement -partners!" He brought a giant scroll up to his face and waved it around the room. "Based on your records from school, meaning your NEWTs, and your scores on your application exams, I've selected a partner that I think will compliment you on the field as you grow into full-fledged Aurors. Seeing as how most of you did extremely well, this was a very time consuming selection. You will be teamed with your partner until the end of Auror training. This is to ensure you not only learn how to grow yourselves, but to work and help each other grow." He began to read from the list. "Dean Thomas, Roman Romero. Walter Simmons, Leon House." He paused, looking to Hermione. "Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy."

* * *

Draco was sure he had heard wrong. But as the brunette turned in her chair and chanced a glance back towards him, he knew it was no mistake. Damn it, he thought. This wouldn't do it all. He was trying to atone for his sins, not have them slapped directly in his face every day. He jerked his eyes away from her and settled them on his quill and notes. No, he would need to make this work. This wasn't something he could back out of now.

He would partner up with Granger and pass this induction. Perhaps he could even show her up. Heh. Yeah right. As if that were possible.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Sir. You've made a mistake." Hermione sat patiently after everyone had filtered out of the room to break for lunch, sans Auror Diggle. He sat atop his desk loosening his tie. Up close, she could see the afternoon stubble on his pointed chin, which contradicted his stunningly boyish eyes. Green flecks, much like Harry's, glistened back at her.

"And what, pray tell, have I done to warrant such an accusation?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir. I can't be his partner."

"You very much _can_. I think the word you're looking for is _wont_. Is that what I'm hearing, Auror Granger?"

"N-No Sir. I just… we never got on in school. And…well… he was a _Death Eater_. How could the Ministry let someone like him into the Auror division?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she knew she had said them, and she bit down on her tongue. Damn it. After all of her talk of diversity and acceptance, she couldn't stop her own prejudices from surfacing. Diggle looked at her with calm tenacity and smirked.

"Hit the nail right on the head, didn't you, Granger?" He stood up, rounded his desk, and took his seat. "I had the exact same reaction." There, he pulled up his briefcase and began to shuffle through it. He brought out a large manila file and slapped it on the desk. "I really have to give it to you- I didn't think you'd ask questions so soon. I had planned on asking you to stay after orientation, but this saves me the formality. -The Ministry isn't the forgiving sort, but seeing as how Mr. Malfoy was acquitted of all charges, it would be discriminatory not to take his application seriously. As it stands, he ranked the highest in written scores aside from one other person. Care to take a guess as to who that young lady might be?" He gave her a wink, making her blush. "It is no coincidence that I paired you up with Draco Malfoy. Not in the least."

"Sir?"

"You, out of everyone that was in this room today, know him best. You might not know him on a personal level, but you grew up around him. You know his tells. His weaknesses. I can't investigate him myself. Believe me, I brought it up to the Minister of Magic himself. But I'm sure you have the same question boiling around in that brilliant mind of yours that's the same as mine."

Hermione sifted through her thoughts and then said, "Why would Draco Malfoy become an Auror? What would he gain from it?"

"Exactly. -What would an ex-Death Eater gain from becoming an Auror? Sympathy? Penance? Or perhaps something far more sinister?- That is where you come in, Miss Granger."

"Auror Diggle." Hermione tried her best to be as level as possible as she spoke. "I came here to become an Auror. To follow in my late-husband's footsteps-"

"-I am dreadfully sorry about your loss, by the way. Auror Weasley was a valuable asset to the force. While I didn't know him personally, my partner, Potter, spoke highly of him."

Hermione's heart began to race. His lament was unexpected and had caught her off guard. She nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." She was grateful he didn't say something along the lines of 'anything I can do to help.' That always made her want to vomit. As if anyone could actually help… they couldn't bring Ron back to life. "But that's off the subject. -I didn't come here to play babysitter to anyone else."

"Is that what you think I'm asking you to do?" Diggle shook his head, chuckling. "Miss Granger, you and I both know that this training is merely a formality for you. _I'm assigning you your first case_."

His words echoed in her ears. "My first… what?"

"While I can't officially give you a badge, as far as we're concerned on paper, I'm making you a full fledged Auror. Today."

"Sir.. I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll be my eyes and ears. Say you'll watch Malfoy and report back to me."

Lost in a blur of emotions, Hermione attempted to sort out her thoughts. Becoming an Auror now, without properly doing the work. Well, that was cheating, wasn't it? She didn't like that idea at all. All of her years at Hogwarts, she never condoned cheating. And she wasn't about to start now.

"I'm sorry, sir. I think I'll earn my keep. Same as the rest."

Diggle ran a hand through his sandy brown hair and sighed. "I see. Making me bring out the big magic, eh?" He reached into his briefcase once more and sat down a thicker envelope. Hermione's heart froze as she read what was written on top in bold letters. 'WEASLEY DEATH, CONFIDENTIAL'

"That's… that's Ron's… that's his file," she gasped, reaching for it. He pulled it back and waved a finger at her.

"Quid Pro Quo, young apprentice. I had a suspicion this might be your reason for applying for the Auror position, am I right? You don't think your husband's death was an accident."

Hermione balled her hands up and slammed them on the desk. She closed her eyes as wave after wave of emotions hit her like a current. Had she been that transparent? She tried desperately to convince herself that the real reason was to help people, but even she couldn't lie to herself at this point.

"You're probably wondering how I knew. And let me just say, I'm that good. So, I'll make you that offer again. A guaranteed Auror position at the end of your training, and everything I have on your husband's case for information on Draco Malfoy. His movements. His strengths. Weaknesses. What he eats in the morning. I'll be damned if we let a former Death Eater into this administration without reconnaissance first."

"Let me guess. You were a Slytherin in school."

"See. There's that bright young mind I need." He wagged the file in front of her face. "Do we have a deal, Miss Granger?"


	2. Then Again

**You know where I'm coming,**   
**From though I am running,**   
**To you, all I feel is deny, deny, denial,**   
**I wanted to be a better brother, better son,**   
**Wanted to be a better adversary to the evil I have done,**   
**I have none to show to the one I love,**   
**But deny, deny, denial.**

**Help me polarize, help me polarize,**   
**Help me down,**   
**Those stairs is where I'll be hiding all my problems,**   
**Help me polarize, help me polarize,**   
**Help me out,**   
**My friends and I, we've got a lot of problems.**

**"Polarize" by Twenty One Pilots**

* * *

Draco sat across from the deli outside the Ministry at a local coffee shop, sipping on hot brew and contemplating his next move. He wasn't sure why he wanted to sit so far away from his new partner, but the further the better. Maybe it was all of the stupid things they used to argue about in school that made him anxious. Perhaps, it was because of the war -of what had happened between them and what sides that had been chosen. He was ashamed of his past, but he wasn't going to say it to Granger. Not to her or to any of that golden threesome. No, he would gladly drink his black coffee and try to think of a way out of this entire matter before it got out of hand.

Who was that bloke standing next to her, he wondered? He recognized the git from school. Thomas… something Thomas… Dan? No, that wasn't right. -Draco perked up when he saw none other than Auror Diggle out to lunch with the pair. As he handed Granger a ham and cheese on rye, Draco couldn't help but think it was all a bit too chummy.

To his shock and dismay, he saw Granger's irritating brown eyes flicker across the road and over towards him. He ducked his head and hoped she hadn't noticed him staring. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She wasn't coming over, was she? He tried very hard not to make eye contact as she sauntered up to him, sandwich still in hand.

"Hello, Malfoy."

He gestured her with a wave of the hand. "Granger."

"Care if I sit down?"

"Actually I-" She sat down anyways, cutting him off. Draco gave out an irritated huff and stirred his coffee. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her eyebrows were drawn together, as if concerned, but she sighed and attempted a smile. "Well, we'll be working together for the next few months. I thought we could try to… make amends."

"Amends?"

"We didn't get on in school, did we? I thought we could wipe the slate clean. What do you say?"

He chanced a glance up in her direction, attempting his best nonchalant glare. Wipe the slate clean? What good would that do? "I say you fall short of your reputation if you honestly think I care to 'wipe the slate clean.' -I don't care to clear the slate. I don't care to get to know you. All I care about is passing this training and being inducted into the Auror division. Understand?"

Granger folded her arms on the table and shook her head. She had aged nicely, he supposed, considering she always looked like a ruffled wet hen in school. Her hair was the feathers of course, and she would always nitpick her chicks (Potter and Weasley). But she had managed to tame her hair, now, much to Draco's disappointment. What could he make fun of her for, now? No buck teeth. No bushy hair. How would he get her to leave him alone? She spoke, drawing attention again. "No. I don't understand. Here, let's start off with something simple. What have you been up to since Hogwarts?"

Draco couldn't help it -he stifled a laugh behind his hand. "You call that simple? What have I been up to the last nine years?"

"Yes, well… you could give me a fact."

"You're not going to leave it alone unless I do, are you?"

"No, I will not."

"Fine." He rubbed his chin, inhaled, and debated of what to tell her. He didn't want to get close -not by a long shot. He was here to be an Auror, not to try to make up to Hermione Granger. If Draco had his way, he would avoid contact with everyone from his past. "I'm married."

"Oh?" She smiled, though there was a sort of… sadness? Draco couldn't be sure. "That's lovely. How long?"

"Three years this December."

"Wonderful."

They sat in silence for a good minute.

"This is the part where you're supposed to ask me something about myself."

Draco really didn't want to play this game, but her determined stare was fixed on him, so he might as well concede (for now). "Alright. What did you do before this?"

The question caught her off guard, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I worked in the Legal Council division, campaigning for House Elf rights." Of course she would be. What else would goody-two-shoes-Granger be doing but slogan for a hopeless cause? "And you?"

"See, this is what I meant by I didn't want to get to know you."

"Then… why were you watching us earlier?" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling sweetly. It made Draco want to vomit.

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Look." Her smile dropped and she leaned forward on the table, threatening to spill his coffee. Damn these tiny shop tables. "You and I are partners. There's no way around that. Believe me, I've already tried to get out of it. So, the least you could do is make this a little less unpleasant so that we can help each other grow as Aurors."

Out of spite, Draco said, "Well, then I'm going to make your life a living Hell." He smirked at her, a confoundment written across the pores of her face. "Run along, Granger. Can't you see I'm trying to ruminate?" He watched her skitter back across the street, and a feeling of superiority washed over him. Yes. That was much more like it.

* * *

Class resumed at a quarter till one. Hermione cursed silently to herself as she took her seat, still with Dean (Diggle hadn't told them to move with their partners, and after lunch she most certainly didn't want to). How could she think it would be so easy to approach Malfoy? Surely there had to be some kind of good in that frozen heart of his? Someone had married him for Pete's sake. So that meant that he had to have some kind of wholesomeness, right? Or perhaps they married him for his money. That would make so much more sense…

Diggle, after rollcall, excused himself from the room and brought out a large wooden trunk. He set it in the middle of the room, had the trainees spell the chairs and tables to stack, and then made everyone line up in a circle around the trunk. Hermione was instantly excited, and her worry of Malfoy dropped for the time being.

"Right." He stepped forward, away from the chest, and took a stance in front of her. "Miss Granger. You're the brightest witch of our generation, or so I've been told. Any guesses as to what is in the box?"

All eyes shifted to the brunette. Hermione thought about it for a moment before smiling. "A boggart."

"Very good, Miss Granger!" Auror Diggle clapped. "A boggart. The best defense against the Dark Arts is a good offence. Like Quidditch. We're all a team, you know. And the best part about being a team is knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses." He rolled up the sleeves of his robes and looked around the room. "So, who would be brave enough to show us their weakness?" The room hushed. Hermione was about to volunteer herself when the burly man from earlier who had made fun of Hermione's gender stepped forward.

"I'll do it."

"Right. Thank you, Simmons. It is Simmons, isn't it?"

"Sir."

"Very good." Diggle extended his hand and beckoned Simmons to the center of the circle. "Now, honesty is most important in being an Auror, Simmons. You need to be an open book to your fellow brethren. But you also need to be cool and closed when faced in front of the enemy. So, why don't you tell us now- what are we going to see when I open up that box?"

Simmon's square face meshed together in a sort of pride. "Snakes, sir."

"Snakes. Oh, how peculiar. Tell me. Why snakes?"

"Bit by one when I was a child. Nearly died."

"That would most certainly put fear in anyone's heart. Right, so -let's see if you're honest with yourself as much as you are with the entire room." Diggle strolled over to the box, undid the lock, and pulled the chest open. A serpent, long and graceful, with slanted black eyes and the color of sheer ivory whipped out of the box in one graceful whip. It landed feet away from Simmons, whose face blanched. The snake hissed, coiling its long body along the floor as it slithered here and there, exposing its deadly fangs and leaving Simmons a puddle of fear on the floor. He fell to his knees, completely shaken.

"Get up, Simmons," Auror Diggle encouraged. "Face your fear."

Simmons shook his head, his bulky body refusing to move. The snake drew closer, flaring its nostrils-

" _Reddikulus_!" Hermione shouted, brandishing her wand and imagining the tiny bows that her grandmother used to put in her hair when she was young. The snake choked, contorting, wrapping around itself until it was shaped just like the pretty ribbons. When it was finished, there was nothing but cute little hair bows.

The room fell silent. Auror Diggle glanced up at Hermione, who still held her wand out mid stance. She glanced around the ponderous faces and lowered it.

"I had it!" Simmons shouted, spinning to glare at Hermione. "I had it, you stupid witch!"

A cool voice perked up from the circle. "Obviously not, or she wouldn't have jumped in to save your arse." Draco Malfoy gave Simmons a calculated smirk and quirked an eyebrow. A few of the trainees chuckled.

"Miss Granger," said Auror Diggle, his voice calm and centered, "While I'm sure Auror Simmons appreciates you jumping to his rescue, I would like to ask you to refrain from helping in the future. The point of these training sessions is to weed the strong from the weak."

"I- I'm sorry, Sir."

"No need. If Auror Simmons had conducted himself like a proper Auror, he would have looked past his fears and conquered them."

Simmons rose form his knees, looked around the room in humiliation, and joined the circle in defeat.

"Thank you, Simmons, for that terrible display of showmanship." Diggle grinned from ear to ear. "Miss Granger. Perhaps you'd like to show us how it's done?"

"Certainly."

Her muscles tensed as she strode to the center of the circle, making sure to not get close enough for the boggart to detect her. She could do this. She knew she could. For herself. For Ron.

"What will we see?" Asked Diggle.

Hermione closed her eyes and thought. At first she thought it might be Ron's pale, dead corpse cradled so peacefully in his coffin. But it didn't set fear in her heart like she thought it would. Only a longingness, and a grief she could never overcome. She delved deeper, sifting through her greatest fears until she settled on the one that made her stomach plummet. She opened her eyes, glanced wearily around the room, and swallowed. "It… It's personal."

"Most of our worst fears usually are. Go on."

With a heavy sigh, she turned her eyes about the room until they fell on steel grey ones, making it a point to concentrate on him as she spoke. If he wouldn't speak to her, and vowed to make this class a living Hell, she might just return the favor. "Back during the War, my friends and I were captured." She watched him shift his feet uncomfortably, and his pale features flushed. Obviously knowing where she was going, he ripped his gaze away from hers and concentrated on the floor. A rush of relief washed over her that she didn't need to look at him anymore. Even if she was the one to instigate it. "There was a woman – Bellatrix Lestrange. She tortured me." Her hand slipped up and over forearm. "She did terrible things to try to obtain information from me. - _That's_ what you'll see."

She stepped forward, wand at the ready. She thought she had prepared herself for this, but as the boggart began to take on the shape of Lestrange, she felt bile rise in her throat and her legs began to shake. Cold, dark eyes grinned mercilessly down at her. The boggart had even captured her heinous grin. Bellatrix cocked her head to the side, a knife in her hand.

"Where did you get the sword, little girl?" Her voice cackled as she screamed, "Tell me, Mudblood!"

Hermione inhaled deeply, settling the lump in her throat, and whispered, "Riddikulus _._ " Bellatrix lunged forward, and the entire room darted back, Hermione included. She steadied herself, reminding herself that this wasn't real. " _Riddikulus_!" She shouted, and Bellatrix shrunk in size, eyes glazing over and becoming a tiny China doll.

Auror Diggle clapped his hands excitedly. "Wonderful work, Miss Granger. Though next time I wouldn't hesitate." He motioned her back to the circle, to which she did, even with her nerves on edge and her body shaking. She caught eyes with Dean first, who looked apologetically to her.

"You alright?" he whispered.

"Never better." Hermione set her chin out and her eyes reached Malfoy's once more. He turned away, a sickened look written on his face.

"Anyone else?" Diggle piped up. "Auror Malfoy, what about you?"

"Is this required?" He stared at his perfectly shined shoes.

"No, not at the moment. This is simply practice."

"Then I abstain."

Diggle exchanged glances with Hermione, as if to say 'make him', but she couldn't find it in her heart to find the words. It was disconcerting enough to see the woman who had tortured her to the point of haunting her dreams every night. -She just didn't think she had it in her to make Malfoy go through something like that. Even if he was a git. And deserved it.

"I'll go!" said Dean, and brandished his wand. Hermione scooted around the circle and made her way next to Malfoy.

"You really don't know when to quit, do you?" he muttered. "Nice spectacle, by the way. Was that for my benefit?"

"You want to make my life a living Hell, remember? I'm just returning the favor."

He tapped his leg with his wand, the both watching as Dean's boggart turned into a flock of birds out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. His face turned to hers. "Out of everything, your worst fear is my deceased Aunt Bella?"

"I think we both know why…" She swallowed a lump in her throat. It felt good to get it off of her chest. So many years, all she could think of was that Draco Malfoy had been in that very same Manor and not done a damn thing to stop his horrid, horrid Aunt. It was one of her greatest animosities towards him. "She was a terrible person, to put it lightly."

"But she's dead. What do you have to be afraid of still?"

For the first time, Hermione swore she saw a bit of the real him peak out. His expression had softened, and he looked at her quizzically. Perhaps, she thought, getting in with Draco Malfoy wouldn't be has hard as she had anticipated. She just needed a new approach.

"Well, I'll answer your question if you tell me why you won't accept the Boggart challenge."

"…That's complicated."

"It always is."

They stood in silence for a long time, watching as Dean turned his birds into Angry Birds characters. Hermione giggled into her hand, and Malfoy raised a curious eyebrow. "What are those?"

"Game characters."

"Why are they so misshapen?"

"It's part of the appeal."

"There's nothing appealing about a giant red ball of feathers with exaggerated eyebrows. Birds don't even have eyebrows…"

Laughing, Hermione debated on whether or not to push. Sometimes, it was best to nudge people in the direction you wanted them to go. But Draco Malfoy was cunning -he would probably see through her ploy at any moment. So how was she going to get any information out of him? But things were going well, weren't they? Perhaps, she thought, a little nudge…

"So, about the boggart…"

His relaxed demeanor instantly shattered, sending his arrogant sneer back on top of his sharp face. "I told you that I'm not getting chummy with you, Granger. So quit prying."

Then again…

* * *

Draco was relieved when training was done for the day. Having Granger trying to be friendly didn't sit right in his stomach. How could she so casually forget that they disliked each other? It didn't make sense. And he didn't like it.

He arrived home at a quarter past six and immediately went to look for Scorpius. He found his son and his wife in the library. Scorpius was bundled tight in a bassinet as Astoria read ' _Timid Dragon_ ' to him. When Draco entered the room, Astoria set the book down and greeted him with a forced smile. "Hello, Draco. How was your training?"

He noticed her tone and briskly replied, "Are you truly interested, or is this simply a formality and you'd like me to lie?"

"I'd like you to be honest with me."

"I enjoyed it. Quite a bit." He watched as her eyes dropped to the floor and skirted around her to pick up an excited Scorpius. His pudge had gotten even pudgier, and as he smiled with that toothless grin Draco could feel every fiber in his body jump in joy. "Hey there, little guy. Miss me?"

"Did you even miss us?" said Astoria, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off of her skirt in nervousness. Draco sat down with her, Scorpius in tow, and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"Tori…"

"Don't you Tori me." She shook a finger at him. "I was hoping that your first day would be awful, and you'd second guess all of this Auror business. As it stands, you love it." She laughed, hollow. "You actually love it."

"I do." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "But not as much as I love you."

"Then… stop." There were tears in her eyes. "Please, just stop this, before it goes too far."

"You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" She scooted further down the couch, dismay written across her fine features. "What do you have to prove? You have me. You have Scorp. You're wealthy beyond reason. What more could you possibly want?" Draco felt a pull in his middle. He wanted to tell Tori all of the reasons why he had to do this, but he couldn't bring himself to. So, instead, he simply shrugged. Astoria's face fell and she rose from her seat. "I see." She wiped a few tears away and stood. "Well, this better be worth it. Because I might not see this through to the end."

"Astoria."

"No. Don't." She stepped away and walked to the door. Then she turned around. "Just don't. I've given this a lot of thought. You never did tell me why you wanted to do this. And it's been nearly a month. -When you decide you can open up to me… I'll be here. But until then, I think I'll take the guest bedroom down the hall from Scorpius. I won't leave you… But I won't be a part of this unless I know why. So can you tell me why?"

His heart pounding in his throat, he shook his head.

"Then have fun being on parental duty. I'm going to bed."

"Tori… Astoria!" But it was too late. She had shut the door firmly behind her, leaving Draco and Scorpius alone. The baffled father looked down to his son and frowned. "Well, she's in a foul mood, isn't she? S'alright, Scorp. I'll have you know I'm actually quite an attentive parent." He could do this. So he was to take the night shift? How hard could taking care of a baby alone possibly be? Scorpius giggled, cooed, then burped up all over Draco's sleeve.

Then again…

* * *

Hermione bolted upright in her bed as cold sweat dripped down her forehead. It had just been a dream, she assured herself. She reached over her nightstand and grabbed up the bottle of water she always placed next to her bed at night and took a hearty swig. As the lukewarm liquid sloshed down the back of her throat, she tried to shake the image of Ron's ocean blue eyes from the back of her eyelids. Hastily, she scrunched her eyes tighter. She couldn't do this to herself -holding on to these sort of things would never give her any sort of satisfaction. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and twisted the lid back onto her bottle before snuggling back into bed. That was before she heard a click click click of something tapping at her windowpane.

She sat up again, this time thoroughly jolted awake. She rolled out of bed and padded her way to the frame and unlocked it before pushing it up and open. A large, cobalt owl flapped past her almost immediately and landed with a graceful turn on top of her pillow top. It extended its claw, where a small scroll was tied. Hermione patted the owl thoughtfully on the head and couldn't help but admire its plumage and elegant demeanor as the owl allowed her to untie the note.

"Thank you." She smiled to it warmly and looked around the room. "I don't have much to offer, but would you like some crackers?" The owl hooted wildly and flapped its wings in excitement. Hermione grinned and said, "I'll be right back." She took to the kitchen, turning on the hallway light so that she could unwrap the message. She stopped just short of the pantry to read its contents, which were written in flowing script with a talented hand.

**_Granger,_ **

**_I hope this message finds you satisfactory. My owl, Archimedes, enjoys any kind of food, so if you have the means I would ask you to feed him before he leaves you. Straight to the point, I require your presence thirty minutes before training this morning in front of the North entrance to the Ministry of Magic._ **

**_D. Malfoy_ **

She turned the scroll over in her palm, searching for anything else, but when she decided that this was all he had meant to say she gave a huffy sigh and grabbed up a box of store brand crackers and a banana from the counter top before she trudged back to her room. After she set the food up on the window seal for the wondrous owl, she sat back down on her bed and whispered quietly to herself. "Well now, this will be an advantage for me, won't it? I wonder what he wants. -Do you know?" She glanced over to the owl, who hooted at her in happiness as it pecked into the banana. "You're welcome to rest if you'd like before you leave." The owl fluffed out its feathers and began to groom at them. Hermione, satisfied, crawled back under the covers and rolled over on her side, focusing on anything else but her late husband's image burned into the back of her eyelids.

* * *

As requested, Hermione sat outside the public bathrooms that were the North entrance to the Ministry, reading Luna's new article in _The Quibbler._ It was something about how garden gnomes had been coming to life in muggle communities and terrorizing the neighborhood cats. She was sure it was all rubbish, but she was always one to support a friend, and if buying a rag like The Quibbler was the way to do it, she supposed she would. After all, sometimes they would post spot on articles. It was like sifting rocks out of the sand.

A cough to her left broke her attention, and she rose her head up to see Malfoy; his eyes were dark with circles and his hair was particularly disheveled. Her eyebrows rose to new heights as she wondered what could possibly make Draco Malfoy look so unkempt.

"Er… Hello." He scratched the back of his head and leaned up against the wall next to her. His eyes trailed over the paper in Hermione's hands and his face instantly soured. "The Quibbler?"

"Luna Lovegood is a writer in it."

"Looney Lovegood?" He smirked.

"Oh, really. It's been nearly a decade out of Hogwarts and you still must resort to childish name calling?"

"Well, if the shoe fits. Besides, you'll never escape the Hogwarts nickname shame. Don't you know that?"

"So all those times you called me Mudblood… I'm just supposed to chalk that up to nickname shame?" Hermione said coldly, glaring at him. She knew she had struck a nerve, because he crossed his arms and a sneer ran across his thin lips.

"You know what? Maybe this was a bad idea."

Hermione's gut jerked. This was the big break she had been looking for to get closer to him -and she wasn't about to give it up now. Even if a part of her wanted to smack that insolent glare off of his face. He would have deserved it. All of the taunting, all of the name calling, all of the racial slurs… it made her dizzy with anger, but she pushed it deep, deep down. Focus on the mission, she told herself. Don't let your emotions get the best of you. You're better than him. "I'm… sorry…" she forced out. The words tasted like rotten cabbage as she watched him smirk.

"Well, well. I never thought I'd see the day Hermione Granger apologized to me. -Say it again."

"Don't push your luck."

He shrugged, obviously satisfied. "I assume you're wondering why I summoned you here."

"Yes. That had crossed my mind." She folded up the paper and tucked it under her arm, turning to face him. "So are you going to spill the beans? Or should I just go on ahead and pretend that you don't exist in class again?"

He rolled his eyes and ran his long, delicate fingers through his hair. Pianist fingers, Hermione noted. "Granger… you're a woman."

The words struck her across the cheek like a hard slap. "Well, yes," she said, a bit too tight. "I believe I've been one all through the years we've known each other. Thank you so much for noticing."

"Well, since you've grown a pair of tits it's been much easier to differentiate you from the male population." He smirked. "But that's beside the point. I need you to tell me something."

"Oh?"

"Why are women so bloody meddlesome?"

"I suppose it's because men are so bloody secretive."

He chuckled. "Touché."

"Why do you ask, Malfoy?" Could this be it, Hermione wondered. Could this be the in she'd been looking for?

"I…" He closed his eyes and sighed. "I shouldn't be talking to you about this."

"And yet," she singsonged, "Here we are."

"Yes. Well… That's because I don't know many women whom my wife doesn't know herself. If this conversation ever got back to her, I think I'd be dead before I hit the ground."

"So I'm a sounding board."

"Something like that." He opened his eyes and turned his head to her. The silver flecks glistened in the sun. "Don't get me wrong. I still dislike you very, very much."

"Aww, I'm so touched." She shoved his shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Go on."

"She doesn't like that I've decided to become an Auror."

"Really? I would have thought she'd be excited to take an insurance policy out on you. You're worth millions, you know."

Malfoy wore an impressed grin as he said, "Good one, Granger."

"Thank you."

"Been saving that one for a rainy day?"

"Nope. Just came off the top of my head."

"-So anyways, last night she refused to come to bed with me. And I swear to Merlin, I've done nothing wrong. But she thinks I need to share my feelings -why on Earth would I want to share my feelings? What ring of Hell do I need to be in for that to occur?"

"Well, what does she want you to share?"

"It's personal."

"I'm beginning to notice everything is with you. -Look, if it were me, I would open up to my spouse. Secrets can cause rifts. And you never know how much time you have with someone… until they're gone. So don't cause a rift that you can't fix. Because all you'll do is leave a hole in both of your hearts and questions that she might never get answers to…" She cut herself off as it dawned on her that she was no longer talking about Malfoy's problems. Horrified, she tried her best to cover it up. "I mean… be honest with her. Open up. That's all you have to do."

"Yes, well… I don't do well with things like that," he said honestly. "I'm more of a brooding, sexy husband. Not the kissy-kissy emotional type."

"You have a very warped perception of yourself." She kicked off of the wall and looked at her watch. "Time to go to class. Pick this up later?"

He too pried himself from the wall, straightening out his robes. "Don't think this makes me like you. I simply needed someone to verbally abuse for a few moments."

"If that's your definition of verbal abuse, you're a kitten." Hermione walked over to the ladies restroom door and stopped. "Just… open up to her."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Well, you just opened up to me a bit, didn't you?" She was surprised when a warm smile spread across her lips. "If you can do that, you can do anything." Watching his face, she knew she had finally found her in. His soft expression was agitated but still very, very vulnerable. Perhaps this was the way to get him to spill the beans. Baby steps, she told herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review in the tip jar, if you would be so kind!


	3. Of Tits and Goldfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite chapters...

**So when you met the new you**   
**Were you scared, were you cold, were you kind?**   
**Yeah when you met the new you, did someone die inside?**

**_"Upside Down and Inside Out" By OK Go_ **

* * *

"Marital issues? That's what you have for me?" Diggle sighed into his morning cup of tea and handed Hermione a muffin from the Ministry cafeteria. "It's been a week, Granger. I expect better results."

"Sir," she said, tossing the muffin around in her hands as she followed him down the line. "Excuse my frankness, but it has _only been a week_. I can't undo years' worth of hatred in that short of time. And besides, we've hardly spoken since he told me about his wife's issue with him. You've kept us so busy with spells and potions that we hardly can stand a moment to get a word in."

"Are you blaming me?" Diggle smirked and led them to a corner table. He sat his tray, filled the brim with fruit, down atop the table top and plucked a grape to his mouth. As it hovered dangerous close to his lips, Hermione found herself staring at his beautiful teeth. -The fact that her parents were dentists meant, inadvertently, that she would always notice a straight smile when she saw one. And Diggle had a beautiful set of incisors. She pried her gaze up to his green eyes, but that only made the situation worse.

"No sir," she replied timidly.

"No matter. Today is a new day, Miss Granger. And one that I think will work to your benefit."

* * *

"Hand to hand combat." Diggle shouted to the group. Their training room had been enlarged by magic, and everything in the room had been transfigured into a dojo. The floors were hard wood padded with wrestling mats. The window had been replaced by a row of Bo staffs, boxing gloves, and protective gear. Above the door was a large, flashing sign that read 'no wands on the fight floor'. "One of these days, Auror or not, you're going to find yourself overpowered and without a wand. And then -and only then -will you find out what kind of human you really are capable of being. Today, you're to pair up with your partners. I want you to take no mercy on them."

"But sir," said Simmons, "Don't you want to train us first?"

"Oh? -No." He shook his head, eyes sifting around the room until they fell on Hermione. He stared at her longer than the rest. "I honestly just want to watch you lot beat the shite out of each other. See what you know. -Alright. Disrobe, grab some head gear and begin!"

"Disrobe, Sir?" Malfoy perked his head up for the first time that morning. Hermione watched as his hand absently roamed over his forearm. "You want us to take off our robes?"

"Do you expect to fight in robes, Auror Malfoy? Do you think the enemy will care if you had the time to put on your robes before a fight?"

Hermione looked from Diggle to Malfoy, and a realization set over her. This wasn't for free range or any other reason Diggle could come up with -this was simply to expose Malfoy's Dark Mark. Even if this was a jab at Malfoy, this was low. Not to mention, she didn't much like the idea of showing off a few scars on her arm as well. She came up to stand next to Malfoy and said, "Sir, if we're in our uniforms on Ministry time, then should we not practice maneuvering in robes?"

"Are you questioning my authority, Miss Granger?" His emerald eyes shimmered with warning.

"No, sir." She cursed under her breath and sighed, grabbing at Malfoy's sleeve. "Come on, Malfoy. Let's take a quiet corner." She ushered him towards the furthest back corner, turned on her heels, and strolled back up to Diggle. "This is low, sir."

"Is it?"

"You think by putting him on display, you're making a statement, but…" She shook her head. "You know what? Never mind. You'll see soon enough."

She made her way back over to Malfoy, who was fiddling with his buttons very slowly. She could see the anxiety written across his face, and she couldn't blame him. She felt the same, though for different reasons. Her hand reached out, touched his shaking fingers, and she said, "It's alright, Draco."

He jerked his hand away and rolled his eyes. "Do not assume to know me."

"I only assume to know myself." Her own hands curled button after button out of their loops until they were all undone. Cautiously, she slid the fabric off of her shoulders, down her biceps and finally off of her forearms. She watched him warily as his eyes trailed over the uniformed cuts along her right arm. They spelled the word that Draco Malfoy had been known for using all of those years ago.

His silver eyes jerked up to her chocolate ones, eyebrows twisted up and forward. "' _Mudblood_ '," he read out loud. "When did this…?"

"Last week, you asked me how I could possibly be scared of Lestrange, even after death. This is the reason. Because every day I'm reminded that people like her still exist. That some prejudices are so strong, they'd drive a person to carve into another human's flesh."

He fell silent, lips pursed together in thought. She could tell he struggled with the scars -and who could blame him? They were ugly, vile things that she couldn't spell away. She had covered them up for so long… There were just some things, she had long ago admitted to herself, that just weren't removable. She shivered as she felt eye after curious eye train in their direction, and she closed her eyes in humiliation. This was the worst of it, she told herself.

There was a rustle of fabric as Malfoy let his robes fall to his feet, and he said quietly, "Would you look at that? We match." She pried her eyes open, finding his Morsmordre Mark almost immediately. The skin around it was red and taut, and with horror Hermione realized that he had most likely tried to burn it off at one time or another. He stared at the mark for a moment, then scooped up his robes, grabbed up hers, and said, "If you're quite done with swapping sizes, I'd say we continue on with training." He scanned his eyes around the room, and one by one the curious eyes drifted back to their partners. Then he placed their robes near the wall and grabbed up two padded headgears. Offering one to her, he took the other and slipped it atop his head and fastened the strap. Hermione did the same, and they prepared to spar.

"Ready?" He smirked, hands up in a confident stance. Hermione, still surprised at his sudden show of humbleness, took a moment to come to her senses before she also put her hands up and squared her posture.

"Are you sure you'd like to hit a girl?" she chided.

"A girl? No. You -most certainly."

"Oh? But I thought you said-" She jabbed out and caught him by surprise, landing a blow right in the stomach, "-I had breasts."

Draco grabbed at his stomach and put a hand up, coughing. It took him a moment to catch his breath, but when he did he smirked and replied, "Tits, Granger. The word I used was tits. -Where'd you learn to throw a punch?"

"Don't be surprised. I did sock you one our third year, remember?" She danced around him, arms up in a pretend victory. She was too careless -Malfoy took the opportunity and jabbed a good blow into her kidneys while her back was turned. His fist was firm, and she realized as she lunged in pain that he had given quite a bit in that punch. Maybe not all. Was he going easy on her?

"Maybe… we should use the gloves…" She winced.

"What's wrong? Can't take what you dish out?" He danced around her in the same way she had, mocking her. He stopped in front of her and leaned forward. "Poor little Gwanger. Should we call you a nurse?"

"No. But you're going to need one." She threw a nasty uppercut under his chin, and he stumbled backwards, clutching his jaw.

"Fuck sakes," he muttered. "I knew you were uncivilized, but this is ridiculous."

Hermione had never felt more free. She stood proudly, forgetting for the moment that she was supposed to be gaining his trust. No, this was much more satisfying. It had been too long since she could cut loose, and something about giving Malfoy a physical what-for was the best remedy. She ran at him, aiming low, but he blocked her and curved his hand around to her side, landing a hit to her ribcage. She ignored the pain, swinging her leg backwards and then forwards, jabbing it right between the legs. Malfoy doubled over, groaning.

"Savage…"

"Oh, I'm a savage now?" She jumped on his back while he crouched and wrapped her arms around his neck as she attempted a headlock. She thought she had it, but she caught the insidious smirk on the side of his lips before he lunged forward and sent her toppling over him. She landed with a firm SMACK back down on the mat. "Ooof!"

"Like I said. Savage."

"Get up, Auror Granger!" Diggle called out from behind them.

"Or do you concede?" laughed Malfoy.

Hermione struggled to find her breath, thinking over her next move. She kicked out her leg, hooking her ankle with his, and knocked him face down onto the mat next to her. She laughed, despite her bruised ribs, and threw a fist into the air. "Victory!"

"I've never been more humiliated." Malfoy jerked his head up and looked at her with squinted eyes.

"I'm sure that isn't true."

Auror Diggle abandoned his watch over Dean and his partner and strolled over to the pair, shaking his head. "Should I assume that you both are trying out some new technique I've never heard of before?"

"Just letting out some… frustration…" Hermione pulled herself to her feet and brushed her pants off.

"Yes, well," Diggle stepped over Malfoy, who was still lying on the floor catching his breath, and tucked a lock of hair behind Hermione's shoulder. "Perhaps if you insist on beating him to a pulp, use a bit more defense." He winked at her and looked down to Draco. "Alright there, Auror Malfoy?"

"Peachy, Sir."

"Wonderful. I'll let her get back to kicking your arse, then, shall I?"

He left them at once, settling on watching Simmons and his partner close by. Hermione knew she must have been blushing, so it was no surprise that when Malfoy stood and caught sight of her face, he jeered, "Someone's taking teacher's pet to a whole new level, aren't they?"

"Excuse me?" She frowned.

" _Oh Auror Diggle. You're so manly. Can I suck your small cock, sir?_ " Angered, Hermione thrust her fist out, but her grabbed it and jerked her forward and into his personal space. He got right up in her face, nose to nose. "Go on. Deny it."

"You're trying to goad me. It won't work."

"It already has." He scooped her up from her stomach and threw her over his shoulder, where she landed, once again, on her backside. He turned to her and smirked. "You leave your guard down when you're angry."

"And you do when you're being prideful." Hermione sat upright and stretched out the muscles in her neck, rolling them back and forth. "That hurt."

"Gonna have a good cry about it later?"

"No. I'm going to knock you into next week."

"Then up off the floor, if you think you can handle it."

He offered his hand out, and after a hesitant moment she took it and let him pull her up to her feet. Competitive though they both were, Hermione almost sensed a sort of bond between them. Interesting, she thought, since all she had been planning to do was kick the living daylights out of him. They set their stances again, this time a bit more carefully, and Malfoy was the first one to throw a punch, to which Hermione blocked. They threw a few jabs back and forth before they spoke again.

"What happened to knocking me into next week?"

"I'm getting there."

"You're getting soft."

"You're soft." She found an opening and got him in the stomach again -but he was prepared and flexed his abdomen. Her knuckles hit firm muscles.

"I'm anything but soft, Granger." He winked at her. -Wait, he winked at her? Since when did Draco Malfoy wink at anything? The world was upside down today.

"You work out?"

"I keep myself in shape, if that's what you mean. You should try it sometime."

"I-" she lunged forward, "-Go to the gym-" drew her arm back, "-Three times a week!" and landed a good hit into his ear, which was only saved by his headgear. He acted as if it barely grazed him.

"And what do you do there? Run the track?" He laughed, shoving her backwards and throwing her off balance. He took his opening and tapped her headgear lightly. He was toying with her, mocking her. "But that's no big deal to you, right? Because Weasley loves you for what's on the inside, right? What _would_ he say if he saw you flirting with Mr. Bright eyes over there?"

 _What?_ Hermione dropped her arms, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She unbuckled her headgear, jerked it off of her head, and threw it hard into his chest. " _Fuck you_ , Malfoy. Just… fuck you." She wasted no time in barging right up to Diggle and saying in a stressed tone, "I need to leave."

"I didn't excuse you, Auror Granger," Diggle replied. Hermione shook her head, hands balling into fists. She was shaking, and she was sure he could see it.

"I need to leave," she said again, more forcefully. Diggle looked her over, glanced up at Malfoy, and then nodded. "Alright. You have ten minutes. Any longer than that, and you'll run laps until tomorrow."

"Sir." She took off in the direction of the exit and shoved the door open. The cool air of the hall hit her like a ton of bricks, as did her emotions, and she crumbled up into a ball against the wall, tears falling down her cheeks like a waterfall that she could no longer hold back. She buried her face into her knees and cried for a good few minutes, angry and disheartened. Did Malfoy really think bringing up Ron was even remotely tasteful? There was no way she was going to be able to do this. Auror Diggle would just have to find someone else. Anyone else.

The door opened again, and she whispered, "I had ten minutes, Sir. You told me-"

"It's me." Malfoy's cool, collected voice interrupted her. "What the Hell is wrong with you, Granger?"

"What's wrong with me?" She pawed at her tears with her fingers and tried to gain composure as she tilted her head up to look at him. "What the Hell is wrong with _you_?"

"See, used to I'd take pride in making you cry big, ugly tears. But I sincerely don't know what I did and… and it feels weird to watch you cry like this. Stop it."

"Oh, I'll just get right on that."

"What did I _do_?"

"Let's think, shall we? Did you not think that bringing up my dead husband's memory might stir a bit of emotion?"

"Dead… husband?" For the first time, Hermione saw him look remorseful. His face scrunched up like he had just eaten a very sour apple. "What are you going on about?"

"Don't tell me you don't know. It was all over the papers."

"I don't read the papers. Haven't in a long time." He slid down next to her, touching his marked arm with hers. The heat from his skin sent chills down her back. When was the last time she had touched someone? Really touched someone without there being a purpose?

"So when you mentioned Ron…"

"I didn't know." He shook his head. "Are you telling me that Weasley is dead?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes and allowed her curls to cover the sides of her face to hide her tears. "I… I just assumed you knew, like everyone else."

"Well, that's the problem with assuming, Granger." He nudged her shoulder. "You assume, and you make an arse out of yourself."

"You… You must do an awful lot of assuming."

He chuckled. "In the past, I made it my business to assume, I'll admit. It didn't really sit well with me, once I looked back on it all." He nudged her again, forcing her to look at him. "I had no idea about Weasley. I'm a pompous ass, but I wouldn't take it that far. Not on purpose. So…" He gritted his teeth. "I suppose… I'm sorry. I don't know how I would have reacted, if put in your situation. Worse, probably. If Astoria ever died I… I'd want to burn the world down."

Hermione found her stomach tingling, and she nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. That… that means a lot, coming from you."

"Not everyone is exactly like they were back in school, Granger. Even I have the capability of growing up, when push comes to shove."

" _Hermione_."

"What?"

"That's what I want you to call me." She offered her hand out to him. "If you've really changed like you say you have, you'll give me that as condolences for your poor choice of words."

He glanced to her hand, back up at her, and rolled his eyes. "Fine. _Hermione._ -But I'm not shaking your hand."

"You made me cry."

"You made yourself cry."

"Malfoy…"

He sighed. "Fine." He shoved his warm hand into hers and shook it. The skin of his palm was soft, and his handshake firm. "Are we done with the mushy? I'd like to get back to kicking your arse."

"Enough of the heavy," she agreed. He stood first, and she allowed him to pull her back up on her feet. They stood close, only half a foot between them, and the air was suddenly suffocating. It wasn't a usual thing for either of them, being so close to one another, and they didn't know what to do. Hermione attempted to back up, but she didn't realize how little space there was between her and the wall and fell back against it. "Oof!"

"Watch it, you clumsy oaf." He smirked and backed away, giving her room to breathe. "I… suppose you can call me _Draco_ , if the need arises." He shoved his hands in his pockets. Standing there, so arrogant and yet so humbled, he looked like a Greek statue. "We are partners, after all." He strolled over to the door and pulled it open. "Coming?"

"How do I look?" she asked, trying to wipe away the last of her tears. "Are my eyes swollen?"

"Hard to say. You've always looked like a puffy-eyed gold fish to me. "

"Prick."

"Witch."

They walked back in together, ignoring the sideways glances from the other trainees. Diggle lightly grabbed Hermione by the arm as she passed and whispered, "Everything alright?"

"Honestly Sir," she said, taking notice of the way Draco moved, as if he truly didn't care what anyone else thought of him. "I think we've never been better."

Diggle grinned, releasing her. "That's my girl, Granger. Make me proud."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fury Oh Fury" by Nico Vega- give it a listen. I think it capture's Draco's and Astoria's problems perfectly.

**And when you lied before**

**You broke our tie before**

**And then I tapped into a feeling that I could not ignore**

**"Fury Oh Fury" by Nico Vega**

* * *

It was their last day before the first cuts would be made, and Draco could feel the nervousness etch down into his bones. He had been doing exceptionally well compared to most of the other candidates, aside from Granger of course, but he couldn't help but notice the odd way their instructor would glare at him from time to time. Auror Diggle didn't seem like a man to be trifled with, especially not with so much hanging in the balance, so Draco kept his head down in class and stuck to the books as best he could. There was a bit of him that was jealous of Granger for having the courage to speak out against Diggle, like when they had been asked to remove their robes a week ago. How could she be so relaxed around someone who literally held her future in his hands?

But Draco was an observant man as well as intelligent. It didn't take much to piece together Diggle's intentions towards the curly haired brunette. The way he looked at her was very less than Holy. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that Granger might fancy him too. And really, who was to stop her from fancying him? It made sense, now that Weasley was out of the picture. Bollocks, he had felt like a dolt when she had told him about Weasley's passing. He never did like the git, but after the War, there was something different about the way Draco perceived the Golden Trio: he had come to the conclusion that perhaps he, Draco Malfoy, had been wrong about the way he saw the world.

That's what had drew him to his wife, Astoria; she shared the same disheartened feelings about their upbringings as Pure Bloods. They both craved a normalcy -a common goal to turn their lives around. And that had been all well and good, hadn't it? Getting married, having Scorpius, it was all worth it, but the moment he told her about his intentions as an Auror it had all gone downhill. He knew Granger was right in that one shouldn't keep secrets from their spouse, but there were some things so dark and deep in his cellar of guilt that they should never be brought to the light. Or at least, that's the way he saw it. It wasn't as if he was trying to sabotage his marriage -he simply couldn't let Astoria in on this, unless he wanted to lose her forever. He knew the moment he told her she would pack her bags and never look back. Some things were just too heavy of a burden to put on anyone else.

He looked up across the table at Granger, so lost in her books, and wondered how she could be so care free. It must be nice to be her, he thought, unafraid and unashamed. When the world looked at her, they saw a hero. A brave warrior. A courageous woman. He knew what the world assumed to see when they looked at him; a Malfoy. A Death Eater. A villain. But did _she_ view him that way? So far, she seemed to be the only one in this entire classroom that didn't sneer when coming in contact with him. She still gave him a hard time, but then again… perhaps he deserved it. He had tortured her year after year. Her, Weasley, and Potter. But she still didn't have distain, even as she raised her gentle eyes from her book to stare back at him.

"Is there something I can help you with, Draco?"

"Nope." He sat his chin in the palm of his hand and leaned his elbow on the desk.

"We're supposed to be studying," she replied, reaching over the study table to point to his book. "Who knows what our first trial will be on Monday?"

"That's an easy one," whispered Dean Thomas over to the pair from his desk nearby. "It's the same one every year."

Draco smirked. Perhaps having Granger as a partner wasn't all bad. She did keep some very valuable company. "Well, go on. Or are you all talk, Thomas?"

"We shouldn't know." Granger shook her head, her curls bouncing around her face.

"Why the bloody Hell not?" he sneered.

"Because that's cheating."

"Is it really? Auror Diggle is sure to know that Thomas knows the routine -it's not our fault if he feels like sharing this piece of prized information to the air to which we are sitting nearby."

"I created this study group to do just that: _study_ -If we obtain the information without his knowledge…"

"Look. Hermione." Draco made a point to use her first name in persuasion. "I promise, whatever it is, we'll study it. So… that's not really cheating. It's just… getting an advantage. Like you with Diggle."

"What advantage do I have with Greg?" she huffed, crossing her arms. He smirked. Oh, this was too good.

"Greg? Is that what we're calling him these days? Thomas, were you aware he's 'Greg' now?"

"Well, yes. Greg and I are actually chums outside of the Ministry, Malfoy…"

"You're not helping, Thomas. You don't count. Oy, Romero?" he said over to the olive skinned man who was Dean's partner. "You call Auror Diggle 'Greg' as well?"

Roman Romero was a man of few words. He simply shook his head and shrugged.

"See?" Draco pointed back at Granger. "You have an advantage, because he wants to suck on your tits."

The reaction he stirred from her was priceless. She flared red like a siren and her eyes were as big as saucers. Her hand gripped her pencil so tight it snapped like a twig; the top half fell onto the desk, rolled off, and hit the floor. She opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it, and then without warning threw the other half of her pencil at him. He ducked, and it flew back and hit the wall behind him. Draco threw his head back, chortling.

"You're an arse," she said hotly, rummaging through her book bag and pulling out another pencil. Of course she would have more, he mused. Always prepared for anything -well, anything but Draco's witty remarks.

"Probably so, but I'm not the arse Auror Diggle has his eyes on." He rose a suggestive eyebrow and wiggled it around. In his best impersonation of Diggle, he said, "Miss Granger, I'm going to have to hold you back after the bell. You've been very naughty." Then his voice rose and he struggled to gain his composure as he said in his most Granger way, "Oh, Greg. Should I show you my pencil collection? It's organized from longest to shortest, you see, and-" Her new pencil flew across the desk and hit him square in the nose. "Oy!"

"Go on, Dean. Tell us what it is. Anything to shut him up." She smiled warmly at her friend.

Draco rubbed his tender nose and leaned in to listen.

"Well, you and I have it in the bag, Hermione. He's going to train us on a Patronus Charm. He usually cuts those who can't produce one first, and then go from there."

Draco felt the bottom of his stomach go out. Without a word, he rose from his chair and gathered up his bags. Granger noticed, because she closed her own book and said, "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"But we were going to train this evening, remember?"

"Honestly?" He threw the strap of his book bag over his shoulder. "What's the point?" He turned and left the lot of them in the wake of the old library, fear settling into his ragged heart.

* * *

"Home so soon?" Astoria called from the den as Draco brushed soot off of his robes from the floo. He stepped into the foyer and strolled down the hall to find his wife tucked under the covers in the middle of the sofa of the den, a book in her lap. She looked up to him and tried her best not to smile at him. Merlin, how long was she going to keep this up? "I thought you were going to be studying until late?"

"Change of plans." He settled in on the couch and pushed the book to the floor before climbing on top of her. "I thought maybe we could make up."

"Draco." Astoria rolled her eyes as he settled his legs around her hips, pinning her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Yes there is. What is it?"

"I said it's nothing."

"Alright." She pushed him upright and crossed her arms. "What are you playing at?"

"What? I can't come home and ravage my beautiful wife?"

"No, Draco. You can't." She shifted and pulled herself out from underneath him, drawing her legs up to her chest. "We have barely spoken in the last week. In the past month, if I'm being frank. And when you're here, you're not really here, you know? I think its high time you tell me what's going on with you, before you ruin this for the both of us. -Is this about us? About the baby?"

"What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "How could you think this could ever be about Scorpius?"

"You applied, knowing you'd have a son to take care of. If this is your way of getting out of your paternal duties…"

"It's not," he said immediately, shaking his head. "I would never think that way, and quite honestly I'm insulted that you would."

"Then why would you bring a child into this world and then turn right back around and put yourself in danger?"

He sighed. "What… do you see when you look at me, Tori?"

She scrunched her face, confused. "I see you, Draco."

"Yes, well…" Shifting his weight on the sofa, he extended his marked arm between them and said, "When the world sees me, they see this." He paid careful attention to the way she flinched and glanced away. He would wear long sleeves most often around her to avoid those kind of reactions, but this time he made it a point to put it out in the open. "Everyone, even you, can't get past this hideous thing. You think I'd put myself through this kind of Hell if I just wanted out of watching Scorpius?" He lowered his arm to his side and rested his head on the back of the sofa. "You won't have to worry much longer about me being an Auror anyways. I'm fairly certain I'm going to fail the first trial."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved to hear it," she whispered. Something struck inside of Draco. He glanced through hooded lids at her and glared.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because it's the truth."

"I don't care." He lifted his head back up and stared forcefully back at her. "You're my wife. You're supposed to support me, even if you think I'm being an idiot."

"I can't support a death wish."

"For fucks sake, Tori! It's not a death wish!" He rose from his seat and ran his fingers through his hair. "You'd rather me be miserable? Is that what you'd want?"

"I want us to be a family! And so… if you being miserable means that you're guaranteed to go on living, then yes! It's what I want!"

"You really think I'd die? You don't think -after everything I've gone through – after everything I've survived… My father. The Dark Mark. The Dark Lord. I survived _every_ time."

"Yes, Draco. You survived. And do you know how?" She stood as well, her hands wrapped around herself as she shook like a leaf in the wind. "Because you were a _coward_. You survived because you knew when to _back down_. It's what I loved about you. I have no idea where all of this courage suddenly stemmed from, but it will get you killed. Mark my words."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but one of their house elves knocked politely on the door, interrupting them. "Sorry, sir. Waddles is here to inform Mister Malfoy he has a visitor at the front door."

"I… what?" Draco turned to Waddles, relieved at the change in subject. "A visitor?"

"Yes, sir. A Miss Hermione Granger."

"Who?" asked Astoria.

"Tell her… tell her to go home," Draco said quietly.

"Pardon, sir, but Waddles has already told Miss Granger there were no visitors. She will not leave the front steps without speaking with you first. Waddles apologizes, and will punish himself at once."

"No." Draco rolled his eyes, thinking of what Granger would say if she thought that he allowed his servants to still punish themselves for absolutely no reason. "No, don't punish yourself. I'll go see to her. Thank you, Waddles."

Waddles' eyes widened in bewilderment, and he gave a polite bow. "Thank you, Sir."

Draco made to follow behind Waddles, but Astoria grabbed at his arm and held him back. "Who is this woman, Draco?"

"Surely you've heard of the War Heroine who fought with Potter, Tori."

" _The_ Hermione Granger?"

He rolled his eyes once more. "Yes. _Her_."

"What does she want with you?"

"She's my training partner."

"A woman Auror?" Astoria was astounded. "Oh, how peculiar."

"Not particularly. Are you going to let go of my arm now?"

Astoria released him at once and behind him as he trudged his way to the front door. He really would have liked privacy, but telling Tori to do something was like telling a cat not to knock off a cup from the table. They were both going to do it and look at you with 'what are you going to do about it' glares. So he pried the door open, despite her, and came face to face with busy brown curls and brown doe eyes.

"You still have house elves working for you?" she started in on him at once, eyebrows curving upwards in dismay. "I would have thought the simple mindedness of your father was beneath you, but then again-"

"They've all been set free," he interrupted her, leaning his long body against the door frame and crossing his arms. "The ones that live here choose to be here of their own accord. So kindly shove _that_ up your arse and tell me what you're doing here, Granger."

He watched with amusement as the glare dropped from her face and her cheeks flooded with pink. "Oh. Oh I see… well… I… I'm sorry, I suppose…"

"You suppose?"

"Why did you run out on us?"

Her eyes roamed over the large doorway, and he noticed her fingers absently running over the Mudblood scars on her arm. It must have taken a lot of courage to come here again, he thought. A lot more than he would have had. "Because I didn't see a need in continuing our study session."

"Why not?"

"Yes, Draco," Astoria piped up, prying the door open farther to reveal herself. "Tell us all why not?"

"Oh." Granger tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, obviously not expecting another person. "You must be Draco's wife, Astoria."

"I am." Tori nodded. "And you're Hermione Granger? The War hero?"

"No." Granger shook her head. "I'm just Hermione Granger. That's all." She still had her book bag from the library strapped over her shoulder and a pencil tucked behind her left ear. "Draco talks very highly of you. It is nice to put a face to a name."

Astoria gave a coy smile, the way she always would when accepting a compliment. "I wish I could say the same about you, Miss Granger, but I only found out about you moments ago." She gave him a one over. "Draco loves his secrets."

"He certainly does," Granger agreed, and Draco could have hexed her for throwing him under the rug. He hoped that she sensed his newly found agitation towards her, but she either didn't notice or chose to overlook it, because she said, "I'm terribly sorry to intrude. Perhaps I should come back later…?"

"No." Astoria put her hand up. "I was just leaving."

"You were?" asked Draco.

"Yes. I'm going to stay with my parents tonight. I think we've said all that needs to be said. I'll just go gather my things."

"Tori…"

But she ignored him and took off down the hall, her heels clacking against the marble tiles. Draco turned back around, sadness swelling in him like a balloon. "Thanks, Granger. Exactly what I needed was you showing up to top it all off."

"Don't blame me because you won't open up to anyone." She poked him in the chest with her finger. "This could all be resolved easily."

"No." He looked back over his shoulder. "It really couldn't. -What do you want?"

"It's not what I want. I saw the way you ran out on us. And it only happened after Dean mentioned the Patronus, which means that you have a secret. You can't perform one, can you?" Her voice was gentle, kind even. Those big, wet eyes looked up at him with tender understanding.

"They… they say that Death Eaters can't perform the Patronus Charm. That we can't because our souls are too tainted for such a pure incantation." He chewed on his lower lip. Granger nodded, reaching out and grabbing his arm. She roamed her fingers over the magical ink, over the skull and the serpent. Her touch was soothing to his soul. No one, not even Astoria, ever touched this arm in such a way as if it were any other marking.

"For most Death Eaters, sure… but… I knew one who could." Her thumb grazed over the singed flesh on the outer edges. It had been two years since his last attempt to remove it. No matter how hard he tried, it would never yield. "I say you've given up too soon, Malfoy. We might make an Auror out of you, yet. But…"

"But what?" he asked.

"I need to know -why you do this. Why you put yourself on the line like this. I won't help you if your cause isn't a worthy one."

"And you're the one who decides if its worthy or not?" he sneered quietly, wanting to jerk his arm away but finding the touch too addicting. It was such a simple gesture of her, and she most certainly didn't need to do it, but she held on and continued to rub the mark thoughtfully. He could see her own scars, and he reached out without thought and slipped her arm in his hand, imitating her as he ran the pad of his thumb over the 'M'

Tiny cries from inside the Manor shook him from his daze, and he jerked his arm away quickly. He turned his head in the direction of Scorpius's voice when Hermione said, "Is that… a baby?"

"Astoria!" he called, entering the Manor and leaving the door open for Granger to follow. "Astoria, Scorpius is crying!"

"I'm aware," she replied, coming down the staircase with a small suitcase in her left hand, Scorpius tucked in her right. "And you're on Daddy duty."

"You're seriously leaving at a time like this?"

"I can tell when I'm needed -and I'm most certainly not right now." Her eyes trailed over to the door, where Hermione stood. She held in them a distain.

"And Scorpius? You just get to decide when you walk out on him too?"

"Draco, if I take him now, I might never come back." Hastily, she placed the bundled Scorpius in Draco's arms. She brushed past him and pushed her way by Granger as well. "You can handle an entire evening with your son. It will do you some good."

"Says the woman who's walking out on him!"

"I'm not walking out on _him_ , Draco. I'm walking out on you. For _a night_. To cool down. Surely you can understand that?" She made a polite curtsy to Hermione and stepped down the Malfoy Manor steps before she disapparated on the spot.

"Bloody fucking…" Draco sighed, turning his head down to his son's wondrous expression. "Your mother really knows how to give an all new meaning to the word 'witch'."

"You have a son?"

Draco looked up. He had almost forgotten Granger had been standing there, through the thick of it. He was filled with embarrassment and what she had witnessed, but also a sort of pride that he could show off his most prized creation. He smiled down to his pride and joy and back up to her. "Hermione, meet Scorpius."

A tender smile swept across her face, and she thrust her arms out. "May I hold him?"

He placed him in her arms delicately, and he was surprised at how naturally she cradled his head. Scorpius didn't seem at all nervous about the new adult, and reached up to wrap a small, pudgy hand through her thick tresses. Granger leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, grinning ear to ear. "Oh, he has that baby smell."

"Yes, well… he _is_ a baby."

"You know what I mean." She grinned down at the tiny, pale infant. "Hello, Scorpius. It's so very nice to meet you." Little Scorp blew a spit bubble in response. "Oh, he's so precious. He looks exactly like you…" She glanced up at Draco and added, "Poor fellow."

"You mean lucky." Draco smirked. "But he sure can imitate his mother's scowl when he's unhappy."

"Yes… she seemed like a rare peach."

"You weren't supposed to see any of that."

"I intruded. It comes with the territory. She seemed particularly upset by my presence -why didn't you mention me to her?"

Draco paused, wondering why himself. It wasn't as if he were hiding Granger. Far from it. But he hadn't ever brought it up in conversation. Not that Astoria ever gave him the time of day. "She's very against all of this. I haven't really told her about anything we've done, let alone who I work with or my day to day life."

"And you wonder why she's upset."

Scorpius cooed, as if agreeing.

"I don't wonder. I know exactly why." He offered his hands out to take Scorpius, but Hermione pulled him close to her and shook her head.

"No. Please… just a little while longer. I haven't held a baby since Teddy…" She kissed Scorpius on the cheeks and nuzzled him. "Ron and I were going to start a family of our own. We were trying, actually… when he…" She paused as Scorpius placed a finger in her mouth.

There, on the front steps of the Manor, Draco felt a tiny piece of his heart melt for her. He remembered the day Astoria had announced her pregnancy, and how much pride had stemmed from that very moment. To create something -to give life to another creature was by far the most astounding thing a human could do. And to have that taken away… To have that chance to create life with your other half stripped from you… "Hold him as long as you'd like, then."

"Thank you…"

Maybe it was the way she preciously held his son. Or it could have been the way she gave off such a trusting aura. He mulled around a thought in his head for a while before he spoke again. "I do it for him."

She glanced up at him and tilted her head. "Hmm?"

"Why I want to be an Auror. It's for him." He gestured towards his son. "I've done some terrible things in my life. I've caused a lot of people pain. There's some secrets that I can't even tell Astoria, because if I did… she'd leave me. Even after the War, my heart was adequately frozen. I only stopped what I was doing when Astoria announced we were bringing a child into this world. I… I deserve this mark." He reached over and ran his finger across Scorpius's cheek. "But if I become an Auror, I might be able to make amends. If I do this… I might be able to look him in the eyes when he's old enough to figure out what kind of a man I really am."

She watched him cautiously, running her tongue over her lower lip as she processed his words. He wasn't sure why it made his stomach jerk, but he didn't have time to think about it because she was staring at him with those eyes that always made you feel guilty, even if you'd done nothing wrong. "And what kind of a man are you, Draco?"

He blinked. "I'm not even sure of that anymore."

She took a pause, no doubt thinking. Then she said, "I see… we best get to work then."

"What?"

"On your Patronus." Hermione smiled up at him as Scorpius began to nibble at her hair. "If your intentions are truly just, we might have a chance of pulling this off."

He couldn't help the grin that broke out on his face. "We?"

"We're partners, aren't we?" She tried to pull her hair from Scorpius's mouth, but his fingers gripped tightly and wouldn't let go. She gave up, giggling. "And besides, that gives me more time to spend with this cutie."

"You want to help me?" he asked, astounded.

"I do." She pushed her way past him, Scorpius in tow, and let herself into the grand entryway. She looked over her shoulder, grinning. "Let's get started, shall we?"


	5. A Happy Memory

**"** **Early evening settle down** **  
** **Father, father, father** **  
** **Who am I to blame?** **  
** **Early evening hush me over** **  
** **Father, father, father** **  
** **Are we just the same?**

**Hey, that sounds like my luck** **  
** **I get the short end of it** **  
** **Oh I love to be** **  
** **I love to be the underdog, Hey!"**

**"Underdog" by Imagine Dragons**

* * *

Hermione snuggled Scorpius close to her chest as she watched Draco prepare a bottle for him. It was surreal as she watched the platinum blonde caper around the kitchen so naturally, gathering formula, then bottle, then taking the time to pull burping rags and bibs from the drawers. She remembered the former Draco, so arrogant as to make his friends carry his books for him from class to class; to see him cater to something so precious and innocent was warming to the soul.

Scorpius made an agitated cry, to which Draco replied, "S'alright, Scorp. Dinner will be ready in a moment. Merlin knows it won't be as good as your mom's tits, but then again most things aren't." He waved his wand and heated the bottle, then handed it to Hermione. "I take it you know how to feed an infant, Granger?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded, positioning little Scorpius before tilting the bottle into his mouth. He latched on immediately, staring up at her with those icy-clear eyes that nearly matched his father's in every way. It must be a Malfoy trait, she thought idly, having such stunning colored eyes. In the muggle world, these were very rare indeed. But to a Malfoy, it must be just another family heirloom wrapped in genetics. How peculiar. "He really is a precious thing."

"You're not telling me something I don't already know." Malfoy leaned across the kitchen island and accio'd a stool to sit on. He stared at his son with such adoration… Hermione shivered. She had to remind herself that even he himself admitted that there was so much darkness in him. In this moment, it was hard to find any. He was just a concerned father, worried for the future of his relationship with his wife and trying to be the best father he could under the circumstances. But he wasn't innocent. And Hermione was determined to find out why.

"You said that you did things after the War…" she started, cautiously holding the tone in her voice to casual conversation as to not instigate a threat and make him bolt like a timid deer. "Am I to assume that you've severed all ties with that sort of life?"

"Assume away." He smirked up at her. "We both know where that gets you."

"So if I want to know something?"

"Ask." He gestured to her, palms out. "If I don't feel like sharing, I'll tell you to shove it. If I do, then you'll get your answer."

"Alright." She chewed on her lip in thought, tilting the bottle. "Another time, then." She pulled the bottle away from Scorpius, who started to whine until she placed him gently on her shoulder and began to pat his back. He gave a strong burp and she went back to feeding him. "Have you ever tried performing a Patronus Charm?"

"Never had the need to," he answered, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, "But I'm willing to give it a go if you are."

Hermione smiled down at Scorpius, whose eyes were drifting slowly shut as he debated a nap. She looked back up to Malfoy. "Well, the first thing you'll need to do is find a memory. The happiest one you have, and focus on it. Do you have one in mind?" He stared down complacently at the countertop, rolling his knuckles over the stone. She could tell that even this simple application was difficult for him -she wondered how many happy memories he had left that weren't warped by his new perceptions of the world. "Anything from your childhood, perhaps? Or something recent? Scorpius-"

"-I've thought of that," he retorted, cutting her off. "But even something so wonderful as my son's birth is tainted by the reminder that I don't live up to the expectations he'll one day have. I'm not good enough for him. Or for Tori." He sunk his head low, avoiding her eyes.

"You can't think that way." Hermione shook her head. "The Malfoy I knew would never think so low of himself."

"The Malfoy you knew died nine years ago, along with Vincent Crabbe." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring at nothing in particular. It was then that his eyes flicked up to her, a new emotion set in them, though she couldn't quite place it.

"The Room of Requirement," she whispered. "Yes, I remember that."

"He tried to kill you." Malfoy sat extremely still, barely even to take a breath.

"Yes. He did."

"What we did that day… It was wrong." He swallowed hard. "It haunts me, you know. Crabbe brought his death upon himself, but that doesn't mean I wanted him to…" It was difficult for him, she noted thoughtfully, but he forced himself to continue. "I was a very stupid child, with very selfish tendencies. But I was a coward then, and I'm a coward now. Even my wife has said as much." His laugh that followed was empty. "I don't have any happy memories anymore."

Hermione blinked at him, confounded by his confession. He was right about one thing -the old Malfoy was dead and gone. He might put on a good show for the outside world, but inside he was just as twisted and warped by war as her or Harry. It might even be harder for him, because he held so much guilt in his soul that neither Harry nor Hermione carried. Her conscience was clear- but Draco's was most certainly not. Everyone always wants to get into the head of the heroes in History's playbook, but hardly anyone, including herself, ever stopped to consider the aftermath of those who sided on for the opposition. "Have you ever discussed this with your wife?" she asked.

Draco tilted his head to the side. "Never."

"Don't you think you should? Perhaps if she understood-"

"But that's just it, Granger. She'll never understand, will she? She's a few years younger than us. She was there, at Hogwarts, but she didn't get in the thick of it like you or I. Astoria is a strong woman, she really is, but she's never been scarred by War. And I'd like to keep it that way."

"So when you talk to me, it's because I'm already damaged goods?"

"If it makes you feel any better, so am I."

She stole a glance down at Scorpius, who lay silently asleep in her arms. She slipped the empty bottle from his lips and sat it on the counter, then shook her head. "I think being damaged might be a good thing. Look at what you created out of all of that pain. You brought a life into this world, Draco. That's not something to be taken lightly. And we've all done things we regret. Some more than others, I'll grant, but it doesn't mean that you should regret them the way that you do. Because, if you didn't make all of the mistakes, you wouldn't have come away with the lesson, would you? Some people go through their lives never learning the lessons that we do. It makes us stronger, not weaker. -You used to make fun of me for loving to learn, but if there's one thing I've discovered it's that knowledge is the best tool to forge a weapon."

He gazed into her eyes, unabashed. "Granger?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you didn't die that night."

"Yes… so am I." She had to pry her eyes away as to conceal her self-conscious flare of blood to her face. Here she was supposed to be attempting a way to discredit him to the Ministry, and here he was paying her a compliment and confiding in her like someone who he trusted in. She coughed, blinking back a small tear. "Where is the nursery? He's fast asleep."

"Give him to me. I'll tuck him in and be back in a blink." He stood and walked around the counter to her. Carefully, she handed the tiny infant over to him, the loss of body heat hitting her like a baseball bat to the gut. She hoped this wouldn't be the last time she'd hold him as she watched him leave the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with his hands tucked into his pockets. "He's out light a light. Don't think he'll wake up anytime soon."

"Should… should we be doing this here?" It dawned on Hermione all of a sudden that she was standing in a room alone with him, with not a single soul around. There wasn't a class full of trainees or even a small infant to carry the tone of the room. And Malfoy was a married man. She didn't want to upset his wife any more, and perhaps being alone in a room with him was a bit more intimate than she would have preferred.

He read the expression on her face because he drew up a precocious eyebrow and chuckled. "It's not like we're going to start passionately fornicating on the counter. Astoria wouldn't have left me alone with you if she saw you as any sort of threat."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel insulted or pleased. "Yes, well…"

"We're just studying." He purposefully stretched, his lean muscles tugging against each other as the bottom of his shirt raised just above his trousers, revealing muscles wrapped in pale, sculpted skin pulled tautly around his pelvis. He grinned maniacally. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes and said, "Are you quite done?"

"Indeed."

"Then allow me to show you how it's done." She untucked her wand from her sock and concentrated on her happiest memory. "You have to concentrate, you see, or it won't work. You have to believe in yourself."

"So what's your memory?" he asked as she began to flick her wand. She stopped mid move and raised her eyebrows.

"I don't believe anyone's ever asked me that before." She smiled, swirled her wand in a spiral, and said, "Expecto Patronum!" Out of her wand shot a wisp of white light that settled into the form of her otter friend. It swam around the room gleefully. "My memory used to be my acceptance letter into Hogwarts. But it changed a few years ago, when Ronald proposed." She giggled into her hand as her memories rose to the surface. "It was in the parking lot of an old drive in theatre. It was his first time attending one, and he got down on one knee just as a werewolf jumped onto the screen. He dropped the ring between the console of the car and…" She stifled a laugh. "I'm sorry. I know you don't understand a lot of what I just said, but it was just such a Ronald way of doing things…"

"Was it a real werewolf?" asked Draco, concerned.

"No. No! It was… like a play."

"So he dropped the ring?" He attempted to carry the conversation.

"Yes. And it took him ten minutes to fish it out from between our seats. He was so worried that he had ruined everything, but I loved it." She put a hand to her cheek and apologized. "Sorry to ramble… it's been so long since I've thought about it."

"And that's your happiest memory?"

"One of them."

Draco nodded thoughtfully and picked his wand up off the table. " _I_ proposed to Astoria in her favorite bakery shop. Had the ring put in her morning muffin, peeking out the top. _She_ cried. -Did you cry?"

"I was too busy laughing," she answered honestly. "So now, how did that memory make you feel?"

"Inflated my ego a bit, if we're being frank with each other," he mused, imitating her movement with the wand in practice. "But I don't think it's powerful enough."

"What about your childhood? Are there any memories that spark something within you?"

He shrugged. "I was the only child of two wealthy parents. I received whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. You'd think that would make one happy, but after so long it becomes expected. Soon, the joy gets taken out of everything…" He grinned, suddenly remembering something. "But, there was this one time… I told my Mum I wanted this potions set for Christmas. It was one of those beginner packages, with herbs and whatnot. But Mum told me no because she said I wasn't old enough to be meddling with potions yet. It drove me bonkers, it did. I told Father, but he just sided with Mum. But when Christmas time rolled around, wouldn't you know-"

"-It was underneath the tree," Hermione finished, settling her chin in her hand and smiling.

"Damn straight it was. And I was the happiest ten year old on the face of the Earth, as far as I was concerned. The next year I went into Professor Snape's potions class and aced it with flying colors."

Hermione reached over the counter and patted his arm. "Give it a go."

Draco looked worried, but jutted out his chin and stepped around the counter to her. He pointed his wand towards the pots and pans hanging against the wall and closed his eyes, concentrating. "I am quite sure this won't work."

"I'm quite sure you'll never know until you try."

He sighed, opened his eyes, and steadied his arm. " _Expecto Patronum_!" His wand fizzled, but nothing beyond that happened. Hermione watched as Draco's face deflated and he cursed under his breath. "Should have bloody known."

"You honestly think you have the capability of performing a spell of that magnitude with one go?" Hermione jumped up from her seat and set her hands on her hips, much the way she did when she would scold Harry. This didn't feel much different, if she were being honest about it. Just a paler form in front of her. With harsher glares. "You're supposed to be intelligent, Malfoy."

"I can't do it," he sneered, throwing his hands up. "I'm never going to pass this course, and I'm never going to become and Auror."

Hermione huffed and tapped her foot impatiently. "We're all insecure, Draco. It's how you deal with it." She walked up to stand next to him, straightened his wand arm, and held on tight around his wrist. As she imitated the motions with his arm, she said, "You'll have to come up with a better memory."

"I don't have one," he gruffed.

Realizing her tactics weren't working, she tried a new approach. "Well, I suppose if you're willing to give up and admit that I'm better at magic than you are…" She dropped his arm and sauntered over to the counter, where she pulled herself up on and smirked. "By all means."

"I never said you were better than me," he scoffed, nostrils flaring.

"Whatever you say, Draco. I suppose I'd give up too -oh, no. Wait. _I_ _never_ give up." She stretched her arms up in the air and gave an arrogant yawn. "I am the brightest witch of our generation. -Do you have a nickname like that? No? Poor thing."

"Watch your tongue, Granger."

"Will you hex it off if I don't?" She gave a small laugh. "If you can't perform under pressure, perhaps an Auror position really isn't for you."

"You want a happy memory?" He scratched under his chin and smirked. "I'll give you one. Remember when I enlarged your teeth? That was quite fun."

Hermione's jeering faltered momentarily as real emotions rose to the surface. "Yes, I quite remember that. Do you remember when Moody turned you into a ferret?"

Both of Malfoy's eyebrows flew up his forehead and he nodded, no doubt trying to think of a comeback to best her. When he couldn't, he simply replied, "Shut up and watch a _real_ wizard work." Draco moved to the center of the room and closed his eyes for a few moments. Then he flourished his wand forward, flicked it in a spiral, and shouted, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

Silver light stemmed out of the end of his wand, lighting up the room in one definitive glare before snuffing back out. Both of them stared at the end of his wand in bewilderment.

"Did I… I just…?"

"Yes!" Hermione clapped her hands wildly. "Oh, yes you did!"

He looked impressed for a moment before his face turned to confusion. "But it wasn't any sort of animal."

"That's because it wasn't a corporal Patronus. But that's alright. -That comes with practice."

He nodded slowly, no doubt taking in the information and storing it away.

"See, Malfoy? There must be some good in you. -What were you thinking about?"

He lowered his arm. "I thought about laying Scorpius in his crib."

Staring at the wondrous man in front of her, Hermione couldn't help but be in awe. He had managed, somehow, to perform one of the most difficult of charms in no more than two consecutive tries. No one, not even Harry, had been able to do such a thing. She stepped off of the counter and threw her arms around him.

"What… are you doing?"

"I'm hugging you."

"Oh, I'm aware of what a hug is. Why are _you_ hugging _me_?"

"Because I'm proud of you, Draco."

"Bloody well stop, would you? I've never felt less inclined towards a hug than in this moment." But despite his claims, he continued to let her hug him for a moment longer before releasing him. When she was through, he brushed off his arms, annoyed, and grimaced. "How is it that one individual can manage to smell like an entire library? Is that a perfume? _Ode de books_?"

"I know you're lashing out because you feel guarded, but I think we're past all that, aren't we? -Shall we try again?"

"Yes." He nodded. "I think I'd like that." He extended his wand arm, adding, "You said you knew a Death Eater who could perform a patronus?"

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

Hermione smiled warmly. "A brave man, much like yourself, by the name of Severus Snape."

Draco paused, mid motion, and glanced back to her. His entire demeanor shifted as he settled his wand back down at his side and realized that his favorite potions teacher, the one who had sacrificed his own soul so that he himself wouldn't be the one to kill Dumbledore; the only teacher who believed in him as much as his father should have; the only backboned man in Draco's young life, was still capable of teaching him to believe in himself, even after death .

"Professor Snape, hmm?" His silver flecked eyes met hers with appreciation. "Well then -what are we waiting for? Let's try again."

* * *

"Draco Malfoy," Auror Diggle called, reading from his roster. Hermione exchanged nervous glances with Draco and whispered, "You can do this. Just think happy thoughts. Like Peter Pan."

"Who?" he asked curiously, rising from his chair with his wand at the ready. He marched up to the front of the classroom with his signature smirk plastered across his pointed face. He wielded his wand, determination etched in those icy eyes, and shouted, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

From his wand shot forth a glowing stallion, its mane and tail licking the air like tufts of fire. It held its head high with pride as it pranced around the room, weaving between tables. As it passed by Hermione it nudged her shoulder. When it made its way back to Draco it stomped one hoof on the floor before disappearing into a wisp of light.

Everyone in the room sat silently except for Hermione, who found herself clapping wildly. Malfoy gave her a look to stop, and her claps slowly died away, as did her smile.

Auror Diggle looked absolutely baffled as he said, "Well… well done, Malfoy. You may take your seat."

Draco strutted across the room and slid into the chair next to Hermione. "How was that for a corporal Patronus?"

"Not too shabby," she answered, exchanging glances with Greg. She could tell that there would be a very firm talk about this later, but she ignored it and said, "And a stallion. I suppose that makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Because I'm a stud?" he jostled.

"Have you ever heard of the expression 'stubborn as a horse?' 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink.' 'Get off your high horse.' I could go on."

"You're saying I'm obstinate."

"Precisely."

He shrugged. "And what does an otter say about you? That you like to build dams?"

"Otters don't build dams. That's a common misconception."

"Know it all."

"Arrogant prat."

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"Thank you."

"You're quite welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, it's going to get a bit darker from the next chapter out, so be prepared for the feel-goody to take a back burner for a while. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I had a little more, but I felt it was better left in the next chapter. Please leave your thoughts.


	6. Calm Before The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you it would get a bit darker. Are you ready? Here comes the plot. ~A.

**Are you with me?**   
**Turn the lights on**   
**Light a candle**   
**I can feel you**   
**It's a blackout**   
**It's a blackout**

**"Blackout" by The Pack A.D.**

* * *

 

* * *

One month had come and gone, and Hermione was no closer to unraveling Draco Malfoy's secrets than she was her own husband's death. Things had been rocky with Greg since he had reprimanded her for helping Malfoy with his patronus, and he had reminded her on more than one occasion that getting too close to your target was a good way to blind yourself to what was really going on. Hermione, in compliance to her agreement with Diggle, had offered up Draco's habits; the fact that he did not come out with the others on the weekends, took no part in any social functions at all, was rather strange. He kept to himself outside of training, except on Friday evenings, which were spent with Hermione, Dean, and Roman practicing whatever they had learned the previous week. So it was a surprise to Hermione when Draco plopped down in the middle of the field, after vigorously training combat spells, and said to the group, "I need a night out."

Dean threw back half a bottle of water under the heat of the setting sun before he exchanged a sideways glance with Hermione. "Do you?" he asked. Draco cocked his head to the side, letting the orange and pink rays of the light dance across his face. It was different, seeing him so serene. Lately, his mood had been foul. Dean looked to Roman, who gave a shrug, and then said, "Yeah, alright. A night out sounds pretty damn good. What about you, Hermione? You in?"

"Me?" Hermione pulled a towel from her bag, dripped some bottled water into it, and began to pat her forehead. "Oh, I can't. I'm sorry."

Draco cocked up an eyebrow. "Exchanging body fluids with Auror Diggle?"

There was a new heat that washed over Hermione, though it had nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with the agitation that bubbled up inside of her. "I'm having dinner with Harry and Ginny, actually." She couldn't be sure, because Draco had turned his head away, but she was sure she saw him roll his eyes.

"Whatever."

"Anyways, I think you'll all manage without me."

"Yeah, but having a pretty woman always helps attract other pretty women," said Dean, wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Don't you know the drill?"

"You could always ask Malfoy's wife to tag along," replied Hermione. "She's quite beautiful."

Draco jerked his head towards her and snarled, "Maybe I don't want the rest of the world knowing about my personal life, Granger."

His words smacked her like a quaffle to the ribcage. Guilt crawled over her skin. Guilt, because she knew that she had been lying to Draco all along. He had no idea of Greg Diggle's plan to ruin him, and if he ever found out her involvement… why did it bother her so bad? Why did the thought make her want to wretch up a lung?

She gathered her wits and said quickly, "Well, I think she would appreciate being taken out on the town, don't you? When was the last time you took her on a proper date?" He avoided her gaze and stared down at the grass.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, and she glanced down to check her text message. "They've bumped up dinner to seven instead of eight. Of course. Drats. -How do I look? Am I a complete mess?"

"You look…" Dean struggled to find the words. Roman shook his head. Malfoy smirked.

"You look like you've just wrestled a dragon, and the dragon won."

Hermione looked down at her grass stained jeans and sweat riddled t-shirt. "I suppose you have a point. -But it's not like Ginny and Harry will care, will they? It's only a cookout." She tucked her wand into her sock, pulled up her book bag around her shoulder, and waved to each of them. "Don't stay out too late tonight -any of you." She pointed to Draco. "And you -don't be your snobby self tonight, you hear?"

Malfoy grinned sarcastically. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be a peach."

Hermione disapparated on the spot, concentrating on Harry's front lawn. When she landed, she nearly toppled over another figure directly in front of her, and she grabbed out to keep from falling. A firm hand grasped her hand and pulled her forward and into a smooth, sculpted chest covered only by a thin button up. Hermione glanced up to Auror Diggle's emerald eyes, petrified. "Greg! I-I mean, sir. What… what are you doing here?"

"I was invited." His breath smelled like toothpaste and cinnamon, and Hermione scolded herself inwardly for not at least casting a charm or two to get rid of the stains on her clothes. She stared at him for a moment longer, mouth agape, before she snapped it closed and pulled herself off of him. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt nervously as he added, "I take it you're here for the cookout as well?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I didn't know other people were invited. I might have dressed up a bit if I had known you'd…" She cut herself off as her ears burned a brilliant shade of scarlet. It had been so long since anyone had looked at her the way Greg did in that moment -like she was a beautiful woman.

Diggle flashed her a sideways smile and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm just as surprised to see you here myself. Though I am glad that you are – I've been meaning to talk to you." He laughed lightly. "We haven't been on the best of terms lately, have we?"

"No." She agreed. "We most certainly have not."

"Well, I imagine I haven't been the best company to keep…So… do you think… for tonight, maybe…" He reached down and slipped her hand in his. "We could forget work and just… talk?" His innocent, humbled stare made her anxious, but something in her told her to keep going.

Nodding, she replied, "Yes. I think I would like that very much."

* * *

Draco Malfoy threw back his third shot of Dragon Barrel Brandy of the evening, relishing the taste on his tongue. It had been far too long since he had gotten toasted -and tonight was just the night for it. Dean Thomas, who was sipping on butterbeer, attempted conversation, and to his credit almost succeeded. But he wasn't someone who would even remotely understand what he was going through. There also was the fact that Draco didn't feel like making any new chums. He just wanted to drink, and he didn't think he should be alone.

Not after this morning's cutting blow.

"Thomas?" he asked quietly, staring down at his empty glass. "What do you do when you're faced with an impossible decision?"

Dean licked the froth off of his upper lip and exchanged glances with Romero. Then he said, "I think you do which ever one you can live with."

"That's what I was afraid of." He tipped his glass towards the bartender. "Another, my good man. Keep them coming."

* * *

Hermione giggled into her glass of iced tea as she, Harry, Ginny, and Greg sat around the patio table outside, stomach full of burgers and potato crisps. The sun had fully set, but the twinkling Christmas lights above the back deck glistened like tiny, twinkling stars above them. Ginny gave out a small gasp, and when Harry looked to her with concern, she merely waved her hand around and said, "It's fine. He's just kicking is all." She patted her round stomach and laughed. "Albus really doesn't give me much room to breathe."

"Where is James?" Hermione asked.

"He's with Molly tonight," Harry answered her. "George promised to take him and Teddy to Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"I see." Hermione nodded. She was excited for Ginny, but it also broke her heart to know that she wouldn't be having a child of her own. Not with Ron. When James was born, Hermione had been nervous of infants and scared to hold him. Now, all she craved was holding Albus and never letting go, like the way she did with little Scorpius. It had been a month since she had seen him. Was he still as pudgy? Did he still have his father's shimmering grey eyes? "Well, when James gets back, I'd like to babysit, if that's alright with you."

Ginny grinned. "Of course it is. Merlin knows Harry and I could use a night out before this one is born."

"Well then," said Greg, setting his napkin on the table, "Why don't you have one tonight?" Harry raised an eyebrow, smiling as if he were in on a secret. Hermione looked from Harry to Greg, who said, "How bout it, Miss Granger? Would you care if we left these love birds alone and made our own evening?"

Hermione glanced over to Ginny, who nodded in encouragement. "She'd love to."

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped, but Ginny would have none of it.

"I think she'd really enjoy it if you took her to that book shop down the road. You know, the one that stays open all night long?"

"Only if it's alright with her," said Greg, looking to Hermione in anticipation. Hermione swept her eyes around the group before she gave up and nodded.

"Alright. I suppose that would be fun." The corners of her lips pulled upright as a nice blush tinged her cheeks.

* * *

The bar was in full swing when Draco ordered his sixth shot, this one of Firewhiskey. Dean was pleasantly sloshed and trying to pick up a beautiful Armenian witch, while Roman Romero had left the group to sing a stunning karaoke rendition of "I Put a Spell On You" from some muggle film 'Hocus Pocus.' The muggle-borns and half bloods cheered him on, bewitched by Romero's colorful voice.

All the while, Draco couldn't help but feel lonelier than if he had just picked his arse up and went home. It hadn't dawned on him that Granger might not go when he had asked to go out; he had just assumed she wouldn't have anything better to do. He had hoped to maybe talk to her about what had been under his skin lately (his newest secret) but -why would she even care to know? It's not like they were chums. Far from it, he supposed. But that didn't stop him from closing his eyes and picturing her next to him, probably sipping on something like water or some virgin cocktail and listening to him ramble on.

Someone placed their hand on his shoulder and grabbed roughly around the cotton fabric of his shirt, spinning him around. Draco was a tall man, but Simmons was much taller, and when they came face to face Draco felt nearly inferior next to Simmon's brawny arms and burly figure. He had lost a considerable amount of weight in the last month, replacing it with muscle as he trained harder than most. He still was an ugly fellow. At least Draco had looks on him, rather than size.

"Well, well," Draco lulled, the room spinning just a bit as he stared down at Simmon's plump fist balling up his favorite shirt. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"Malfoy." Simmons released his shoulder and sent him toppling back into his stool less gracefully than Draco had intended -but he was too hammered to care. "Where's your little tramp friend? Off sucking Diggle's dick?"

"Most likely…" Draco smirked as he leaned his elbows back against the bar top.

"You think you're hot shite, don't you, Malfoy?" Simmons grumbled. Two men stood next to him -neither of them Draco recognized. Must be cronies. Oh, how he missed cronies.

"I mean, I am rather attractive. Thank you for noticing," Draco replied icily. He could tell this wasn't going to end in his favor. Of that he was very certain.

"A sodding, worthless Death Eater like you doesn't deserve the title of Auror. -I know some good men who were tossed out on their arses. You think it's fair? You stay, they go?"

"I can't help it if I'm just that much more talented than they are. Not everyone can be this handsome, cunning, and wonderful at wandless magic." Draco snapped his fingers and the top of Simmon's hair began to turn a vibrant shade of pink. Simmons didn't notice, but several others in the bar did, and they chuckled into their liquor.

"The only reason you got this far is because of your slutty friend, Granger. Don't think I don't know how you ride her coattails like some barking pup on his bitch's tit."

Something stirred within Draco; an emotion that was very, very foreign to him. Something that willed him to protect the irritating bookworm. He rose from his chair clumsily and got right in Simmons' face. "Tell me. Why are you so threatened by Granger? Is it because she's a woman? I suppose I'd be embarrassed too if a woman had bigger testicles than me. Or if I had bigger tits than her. " He tisked.

"Aaarrgh!" Simmons swung his big, ugly fist, but Draco was quicker and ducked out of the way. He pushed off with his legs and barreled into Simmons' stomach, sending them both toppling over onto the ground. A hand came out and wrapped its big fingers around Draco's throat, and Draco retaliated by grabbing Simmons' by his magenta hair and slamming his head back against the floor before throwing a curved hook into Simmons' square jaw.

The bar hushed as Draco lifted himself off of the unconscious brute and straightened up his shirt. His left sleeve had been yanked up, and eye after watchful eye fell on his Dark ' cronies backed away slowly. He pulled his sleeve down harshly, threw all of the money in his pocket down next to his empty shot glass, and sauntered out of the building, taking what little dignity he had left with him.

* * *

The bookstore was about as big as the Gryffindor common room, but it held an array of newest novels, wizard and muggle authors alike. Hermione felt right at home as she plucked a Dickens book from a shelf and turned to Greg. "A Tale of Two Cities. Have you ever read it?"

"Of course. I'll have you know, you and I share a few things in common, Miss Granger. I too was born from muggle parents." Diggle took the book from her hands and turned through the pages. " _You have been the last dream of my soul. A dream, all a dream that ends in nothing. Think now and then that there is a man who would give his life to keep a life of love beside yo_ u. -Quite profound, don't you agree?"

"Greg…" She looked down to the floor, uneasiness settling in her stomach. "What are we doing?"

"We're having a conversation in a bookstore," he replied. "Is that not alright?"

"Well… I mean. It is pleasant. But -you're my superior." She dug her brown eyes right into his gloriously emerald ones. "Do you really think that we should be conversing like this?"

Diggle chuckled, setting the book back on the shelf. He put a hand against the shelving behind Hermione and leaned closer. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Asking." She could feel her body tingle, and it betrayed her. "You have to forgive me. I haven't been out with a man in quite some time, and this is all very new to me."

"So are you out with your superior or out with a man?" His face inched closer, and Hermione's breath caught. "Because those are two very different situations."

"Isn't it a bit of both?" she asked, doubt in her voice. She knew this had been a set up by Ginny and Harry. She knew what they intended for her when they set her up with Diggle. And it wasn't as if she had other prospects… but what she didn't know is if she was ready to date again. Even if some dreamy man with his strong jaw and flawless skin was nose to nose with her. Oh, how she hated thinking like a woman. This is why she liked being intelligent, so she could avoid these types of situations. Thinking things through was always so much simpler than listening to your heart. Stupid hormones…

"Hermione," Greg whispered. "If I haven't made it obvious enough already, I quite enjoy your company. And unless I'm reading the signs wrong, I think you like mine too."

"I do." She confessed, her heart beating wildly. "It's only that-" Her cell phone rang in her back pocket, interrupting her. Greg's eyes turned down towards the phone, and Hermione answered, stealing her way past Diggle in relief. The less she had to talk about her feelings with him, the better. It was all too much too soon, and she really wasn't sure what she felt or if she could allow herself to feel.

"Hello? Dean, slow down… what do you… no… no, I understand. I'll be there soon." She hung up and said, "I have to go."

"Why? What did Dean say?"

She jerked her face up to look at him and folded the phone. "You said no work tonight, remember? I'm not at liberty to say."

"Hermione…"

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Greg. I'd love to do it again sometime." She leaned up, kissed his cheek, and jogged out of the bookstore without so much as a second glance back.

* * *

"Where is he?" Hermione sighed as she arrived in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Dean motioned towards the fountain in the middle of the town square, where Malfoy was busy chiding insulting remarks to each and every muggle passerby.

"You- do you know how terrible your hair looks? It really is the most atrocious thing I've ever seen, and I've seen Pansy Parkinson naked. – Oy, you sir. I've seen pregnant woman with less gut than you. -Madam, your makeup makes you look like you enjoy taking it up the arse. –Oh, is that so? Well, I'm richer than you are. I'm richer than the lot of you!"

She winced as Malfoy flipped the bird to a woman walking her child. "What _exactly_ happened?"

"Simmons got under his skin, I think. They had an all-out brawl. Malfoy won - _surprisingly_. And then he's been here since. I wouldn't be concerned if it wasn't for the fact that he's drunk and might out all of wizard society at any moment."

"He wouldn't do that…" She shook her head. "Go back inside, Dean. I promise I've got this covered." Dean reluctantly did as he was told, and when the door shut behind him Hermione made her way across the street and stood in front of Draco, who had now taken position on the fountain's edge, standing a foot and a half taller than he already was. In his hand was a flask.

"And you." He pointed an accusing finger at her, staggering slightly as he struggled to balance atop the fountain. "You are the worst of them all."

"Me?" She gestured towards herself. " _I'm_ the worst? _I'm_ not the one making a fool of myself."

Draco tipped the flask into his mouth and downed a few gulps. He hissed as the liquor burned the back of his throat, and then with a toss he threw the container behind him and into the water. "I hate you."

"I know you do." She nodded, stepping closer. "But just out of curiosity, is this a generalization or is there something bothering you that I've done as of late?"

"You exist." He glared down at her, suddenly very serious.

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because… look at you!" He gestured towards her. "You're Hermione bloody Granger. You can do it all! Top notch at magic. Had a successful marriage, before your husband went and got himself killed -no offence-"

"-Draco!"

"Ah, ah! I'm not through!" His arms swung around theatrically as he spoke. "Everyone adores you. You're the heroine! The activist! The advice giver! Some bloody advice you give, you stupid-"

"- _Mudblood_? Is that what you were going to say?" She snapped at him.

His glare was meticulous, as if he were trying to peel back each and every layer inside of her soul to figure her out. "Don't assume to know me."

"Then tell me what's going on." In frustration, she placed her hands on her hips. "I should just let the muggle authorities have you for the evening. I'm sure once you've sobered up you'll see just how unreasonable you're being."

"I'm unreasonable? - _You're_ the one who told me to open up to her! And do you know what that cost me? Do you know, Granger? Hmm?"

"What are you rambling on about? Are we talking about Astoria?"

"You're damn right we are."

"What happened?" Her voice was hushed, careful not to tread too heavy.

"I… I took your advice. I took your sodding advice and tried to open up to her." He made to sit down on the edge of the fountain, but in his drunken state he lost his footing and fell backwards into the fountain. Water splashed up and over the stones, dripping to the concrete below. Hermione gasped and ran over to the water's edge to find him soaked from head to foot, his clothes sticking to him like flypaper and his hair dripping wet over the shroud of his eyes.

"Malfoy, are you-?"

"I'm fine!" He shouted at her, waving an arm around. Tiny droplets hit Hermione in the face. "I'm fucking fine! Don't you think you've done enough damage? Go find someone else's life to ruin!"

She fell silent, taken aback by his words. As she watched him dripping wet and eyes full of contempt, she felt a pang of guilt. Slowly and without a word, she sat down at the edge of the fountain, not caring if the stones were wet. She reached out, brushed the hair out of his eyes, and stroked down the form of his cheek before drawing her hand away and back into her lap. She waited for him to continue, and after a time he did, his voice much quieter and full of sorrow.

"She came to me after we passed our first trial. She gave me an ultimatum. I could either quit the Auror position or open up to her about why it was so important. And… and so I did. I told her."

This was the moment Hermione had been waiting for, hadn't it? For him to open up to something so big? To let something slip through? Her mind turned to Diggle, and then to Astoria, and finally to Draco. Was telling him to let it all out in the open really worth all of this pain? She couldn't be sure. Not until she knew the truth.

"What… what did you tell her?" she asked timidly.

"Everything. About how I was doing this for Scorpius. That I had been holding secrets from her for years. About who am. What I am." He lowered his head. "I'm not proud of the lowest moments in my life, Granger. I've put a lot of people in danger. I've traded dark artifacts for secrets and traded those secrets for positions of power. I did a lot of bad… and it's catching up to me." He reached up and ran his fingers through his wet white-blonde tresses. "Am I unforgivable, Hermione?"

So this was his secret? That he had doused in illegal things? That really was no surprise. But what did surprise her was his regret. It rung true like a church bell on Sunday morning. He genuinely wanted to be forgiven. Glancing up at the stars, she said, "Tell me one thing." She couldn't help herself as she turned around and stuck her feet in the fountain to face him. Her jeans soaked up the water like a sponge, but she did not care. She made a point to look directly at him with heavy resolve. "Did you… murder anyone?"

He scowled at her. "Of course not."

"Did you get anyone killed?"

"Not to my knowledge."

She weighed her next words carefully before she spoke. "Then I don't believe you are beyond the point of forgiveness."

He bit down on his lower lip, mulling her words around. "Truly?"

"Truly." She reached out and ruffled his hair to lighten the mood. "Although I have to say your appearance could be unforgiveable right now."

"You're one to talk." He smirked. "Have you taken a look in the mirror? You look like you could use a bath yourself." With a devilish grin on his face, he grabbed at her arm and yanked her sideways into the fountain pool. Hermione screamed in surprised, and when the water settled, she was just as soaked as he was. She was appalled while he roared with laughter, and in retaliation she splashed a bit of water in his face.

"You git." She found herself chuckling. "I take it back! You're completely unforgivable! Contemptable!"

"I'm adorable." He smirked again, reaching out to wipe her hair out of her eyes, the way she had for him. But when he tucked back her hair behind her ear, his hand lingered, as did his gaze on her. Hermione's chest tightened as the moonlight glistened back against the water and onto his skin. In this light, with his glowing skin and steely eyes, he looked like some sort of ethereal god. "I'm only going to say this once, Hermione. So listen carefully."

Her voice sounded hoarse as she replied, "Alright."

"I was wrong." The pad of his thumb brushed along the shell of her ear. "I shouldn't have blamed you for my failed marriage. I had it coming."

"Failed...?"

"Astoria… asked me for a divorce. A month ago."

"…Draco, I'm _so_ sorry."

"Yeah." He nodded, slowly peeling his hand away from her. "Me too. Would you like to know the worst part? She hasn't asked for a damn thing. Not half of the estate. Not my money. She doesn't even want to take Scorpius away from me. She just wants me to sign the bloody papers and be done with it. So how do you do it? How do you _live_ like this?"

Hermione scooted closer subconsciously. "Heartbroken, you mean?" He nodded slowly. "You… take it one day at a time, I suppose."

"Easier said than done," he whispered.

"Is that why you've been acting off lately? Because you've held this in for so long?" Hermione reached out and put both of her hands on his shoulders, sitting on her knees so that she could be eye level with him. She'd practically be sitting on his lap if his legs weren't on either side of her, caging her. "Listen to me. We might not be the best of friends, or very good friends for that matter. But I want you -no, _need_ you to know that _I'm here for you_. You shouldn't hold on to secrets, Draco. I'll be your sounding board. Come to me when you can't hold it in anymore, alright? Don't go off and get drunk and make a fool of yourself. Come to me. I'm your partner. That's what partners do."

Her heart jumped when his hand slid up her arm and rested on the side of her neck. He had the most peculiar look on his face as he tugged her closer through the water, his other hand grabbing one of her thighs to move her until they were nose to nose. There with his hand on her leg and the other on her throat, with the moonlight gleaming off of their bodies, and the smell of chlorine from the water mixed with the alcohol on his breath, Hermione felt a tingle in her lower abdomen that spread until it hit the back of her throat. The feeling from his breath touching her lips was indescribable. Her chest rose up and down, as did his, as they both struggled to breathe.

That's when she heard it. An explosion far off in the distance. The earth beneath the fountain shook, and from the East came a pulse wave that nearly knocked them both over. Draco instinctively reached out and wrapped his arms around Hermione, shielding her as searing heat washed over the both of them. Dust and glass flew all around, and when it settled, she looked up to him with horror. They both looked towards The Leaky Cauldron, who's patrons were scattering out of the front door like cockroaches to the light. Dean was one of the last ones out, clutching his stomach as fire broke through the windows of the pub and began to engulf the window panels. The surrounding buildings had all been hit by the pulse, their windows and doors shattered and splintered.

"Dean!" Hermione shouted as her and Draco struggled to their feet. The water held their bodies down in their water logged clothes, but they trudged through and over the fountain's edge to meet him. "Dean, what happened?"

Dean coughed as he rubbed soot from his eyes and collapsed at their feet. "Romero! Romero's still in there!"

Draco drew his wand from his sock and made to run at the building -but a second explosion sent him to a dead halt. The entire foundation gave way with a resounding crack, and then The Leaky Cauldron was no more than a pile of flames and ruble on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review! I would love to hear what you think. -And just an FYI: There's more to Draco's past than meets the eye, even now.


	7. Pandora's Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Here we are at chapter 7. If you've stuck around, I want to give you a round of applause and a virtual cookie. I thank you, humbly, from the top and bottom of my heart.

**There is an answer in a question**   
**And there is hope within despair**   
**And there is beauty in a failure**   
**And there are depths beyond compare**   
**There is a role of a lifetime**   
**And there's a song yet to be sung**   
**And there's a dumpster in the driveway**   
**Of all the plans that came undone**

**How could something so fair**   
**Be so cruel**   
**When this black sun revolved**   
**Around you**

**~"Black Sun" by Death Cab For Cutie**

* * *

Draco knew that he should be terrified. Something bigger than him, or his divorce, or his entire existence came crashing, literally, through the streets of London like a dirty muggle bomb. But as he watched as Ministry officials put out the fiendfyre flames that had crushed the Leaky Cauldron, he couldn't help the sense of purpose that washed over him like a baptismal hurricane. For once, in his sad, pathetic existence, he felt no fear. Instead, he wanted nothing more than for those burning embers to snuff out so he could get his hands dirty in the thick of War. This was what he had been waiting for. And he was ready to cut his teeth. He knew exactly what had caused that explosion -he'd seen it once before.

But, of course, Harry bloody Potter, the Head of the Auror Department for the Ministry, had other ideas. Yes, leave it to Potter to destroy all of the fun. As he stood in front of the vast majority of Aurors and trainees that had been called on the scene, Potter held a sense of command that Draco could hardly remember from his days at Hogwarts. Since when did Potter carry himself with such confidence?

"What has happened tonight is an alarming example of what Dark Magic is capable of in the hands of those who would seek to wield it. These actions are not to be taken lightly. -We don't know what we'll find when we open those gates to Diagon Alley, but we've received reports that the Flu network is down in many sections of Diagon, and thus children and the elderly have been stranded. Our job tonight is to get the wizards and witches out of Diagon Alley through the passage as quickly and efficiently as possible. Do not attempt to disapparate the wounded! It could be too dangerous, especially if they are disoriented. -That is our first priority. If you come under fire from enemies, your first priority is to the people! Is that clear!?"

The entire crowd rang out at once. "SIR!"

"I need all trainees to fall back and help St. Mungos attend to the sick and wounded that will come out of that gate. The rest of you, with me! We have a lot of ground to cover."

Potter stepped off of his makeshift podium at the fountain and began to weave through the crowd. Already, Ministry officials were heavy at work sealing the borders of Charing Cross Road from muggle eyes. The remaining muggles were sure to be given memory tampering spells after a thorough interrogation. Draco pushed through the crowd, tugging Granger along by the wrist until he came face to face with the Golden man himself.

"Potter," he started, even as Hermione tugged on his sleeve and whispered for him to shut it. "I need a word with you."

Potter's green eyes danced irritatingly towards him. "This isn't the time, Malfoy."

"Let us go too." Draco blocked the path between Potter and his destination, set on turning the tides. "We're more useful to you in there than out here, of that I can assure you."

"Draco," Hermione whispered, nudging him in the ribs. "Harry has given us an order."

"And he can un-do that order if he sees fit." He stood his ground. With a hearty cross of the arms and a wiggle of his superior eyebrows, he waited for his answer. "So, how 'bout it?"

"You have your orders. You'd do well to heed them. Besides, Malfoy, you smell like a brewery." Potter's gaze shifted over to Hermione. "Keep him out of trouble, will you?"

"You'll need us!" Draco shouted as Potter pushed past him and went on in the direction of the Leaky. When he had disappeared from sight, Draco turned his attention to his partner. "Some help you are, Granger. I could have pinned a flag on you -you were literally a pole."

Small strands of damp hair clung to Hermione's chin as she shook her head at him. Draco had the inkling to tuck it back behind her ear again (it irritated him, he convinced himself), but he stopped himself as she said, "And do you really think, in your condition, you'd be any good out on the field?"

"What condition?"

"You're as boiled as an owl, Malfoy."

"Was that supposed to refer to the level of alcohol in my system? Is that even an expression? Or did you make that up on the spot?"

"It is an expression! Honestly, let's just do what we're supposed to do and stop complaining."

"It isn't fair. We were at ground zero -we should have been-"

"No." She turned on her heels and glared at him. "You're right. We should be out there. But perhaps if you weren't sloshed, we'd be out there now. As you are, you are quite useless to the cause."

"Useless?" He glared at her. "You know what's useless? Following orders you know are ridiculous just because someone tells you to -that's useless. And a good way to get yourself killed." He stepped back away from her, his head sobering. "I'll show you useless." And with that he took off in the direction of the gate.

* * *

"Draco, slow down!" Hermione shouted as she and Malfoy tore through the streets of Diagon Alley. Dean was on their heels, clutching his possibly broken ribs, but keeping good time with them as Draco led the charge.

"We don't have time!" he shouted over his shoulder, weaving through a pile of rubble and some decimated bodies of… well, Hermione didn't want to stop to look. It was better if she didn't think about it. Her damp jeans weighing her down, she waved her wand and cast a protector barrier directly in front of Malfoy, blocking his path. He nearly hit the wall, but skittered on his heels and came to a deafening halt. "What the _Hell_ , Granger?"

"What the Hell indeed!" she shouted back, stopping just short of him. "Do you mind telling me why we disobeyed a direct order from Harry and threw ourselves into the eye of the storm?" She glared contemptibly at him. "I get it, we're all shaken up, but this is no reason to-"

"Hermione, I mean this in the politest way possible, but kindly shove your assumptions up your arsehole and take down that barrier spell _now_."

"And if I don't?" she asked, sticking her chin in the air.

"Then a lot of innocent people are going to die. And that blood will not be on my hands. It will be on yours." His steel gray eyes bore into hers, warning her to heed him. Reluctantly, she waved her wand and dismissed the barrier. Draco nodded once to her in thanks before taking off in the direction of the middle of the city.

"Hermione!" Dean called, "Follow him! I can't keep up!"

"Right." She waved him on and attempted to control her breathing as she sprinted after Draco. When she rounded the corner to the left, she nearly toppled into his lean frame as he stood, frozen, in front of a large, glowing blue box. There were runes carved into every edge -ones that even Hermione herself didn't recognize off the cuff, and the box hovered inches off of the ground. It was the size of a traveling trunk, but shaped like a cube. It gave off a pulsing magical energy that Hermione instantly felt in her bones. Quietly, she moved to stand at Draco's side. "What… is that?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," replied Draco, chest heaving up and down from his vigorous running.

"We live in a world of magic, whomping willows, forbidden forests, and owls that seem to know where we are at all times. Whatever you're about to say, I'm most likely to believe it at this point."

"You ever heard the legend of Pandora's box? -Well, this is a byproduct of that magic. It's called a Pandora Mine." Hermione's instincts kicked in, and she made to take a step closer to it to examine, but Draco's arm shot out and pulled her back. He took a step between her and the box, scowling. "Do not, under any circumstances, touch that box, Hermione."

"This is what caused the explosion, isn't it?" she asked him. He nodded. "How do you know about this, Malfoy? I've never read about it any text book."

He blinked a few times, opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that we have to destroy it before it goes off again."

"Again?" Hermione's eyes widened. She stared at the object and felt a pull. It didn't take her long to put the pieces together. "Pandora Mine… like a Pandora's Box. It swallows up all of the magic around it, doesn't it?"

"And then when it saturates enough magic- BOOM." Draco clapped his hands together and gestured and explosion. "All of that magic is released at once. And then it continues, until someone touches it again or it fills back up."

Images flew into Hermione's mind all at once like a hurricane, spinning and circling her brain. She saw Ron's bright blue eyes kissing her good morning- his last goodbye – "I'll be home for dinner. Could we have pot roast, Mione?" -The Ministry official at her doorstep, his hat held between his hands in solidarity -The papers that read 'Auror Weasley dies in fiery explosion' – The horrifying feeling hit her stomach once again, the one that had consumed her the day of his passing.

"W-What happens if someone touches it?" she asked, losing her battle with her nervous system. Her hands began to shake violently.

"The entire box explodes -not like if its left alone. It literally explodes, like a mine."

"Oh, God…" She put her hand to her mouth to keep from vomiting.

"Get a grip, Granger," Draco said sternly. "I don't need you passing out on me. We can still diffuse it. We just need to get it away from magic."

She struggled to keep her emotions in check, biting her tongue to keep herself from letting the questions pour out of her. Later, she thought. Stay in the moment. "We should tell Harry."

Draco reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, crouching to her eye level. "We can't tell Potter about this, Hermione. We can't tell anyone."

"What?" She glared at him, her anger lashing out. "Of course we have to tell them! The Ministry needs to know about-"

"If they find out I knew about this, and I didn't share the information, they'll throw me in Azkaban. Do you honestly think you're going to say a word to anyone?"

"Are you _threatening_ me?"

" _No_." He leaned closer, shaking his head as if that thought had never crossed his mind. "I'm telling you this because, out of everyone, I know I can trust you with this. Because you're the type of person that wouldn't turn someone in without all of the facts. And I'll give you the facts, Granger. I will. But right now, I'm going to need _you_ to trust in _me_ for a change."

Her gaze was deploring. His was beseeching. She sighed, nodded, and said, "Fine. But… but you owe me."

"To the moon and back." He smirked, releasing a heavy breath he had been holding. "Right, it'll take both of us, but I think we can levitate it out of the city. When it's far enough away, we can hit it with an object and set it off."

 _"Over the city_?"

"Well, we could just let it set off all on its own if you prefer. Have a residual cookout."

She glared contemptibly at him. "Your sarcasm isn't as charming as you think it is."

"Isn't it?" He released her shoulders and steadied his wand at the box. "Walk around it -carefully. The closer we get, the more magical energy it draws. -Yes, like that," He encouraged as she shifted around to the other side of the cube, "On the count of three, we'll need to _Leviosa_ the shit out of this. We'll only get one good shot before it drains the magic. One. Two…"

On three, they both shouted, " _Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The cube began to rise, quickly, and Hermione attempted to match Draco's speed as it floated up, up, past the height of the shops and even higher past the bell tower. She could feel the magic being drawn out of her like sand dripping through an hourglass, and it took everything she had not to pull herself out of the vice of the Pandora Mine. It was high, now, and Draco shouted, "Hold it steady!" She felt his magic release from hers. The Mine became fantastically weighty, but she steadied her wand arm with her other and bit down on her lip in concentration.

"Do it!" she shouted.

Draco grabbed up a brick from a crumbled building side and levitated it in the air. With a firm hand, he shouted, " _Alarte Acendare_!" The brick was sent whizzing into the sky like a firework. "Drop the spell!"

Hermione released at once, watching as the Pandora Mine began to descend in the path of the flying brick. She didn't get a chance to see it go off- Draco grabbed the back of her head and sent them both tumbling down to the street below, his hand cushioning the blow to her skull as he landed atop her just as a wave burst over the skyline. This time, the heat was far worse -a current of wind slapped at their faces, and Hermione wrapped her arm around the back of Draco's head to protect him. It was then that she heard the BOOM, so loud and violent, and she screamed as it burst into her eardrums. Just like that, the heat was gone, as was the wind. Her eardrums felt bruised, and she missed whatever Malfoy had just said.

"What?" she croaked out, opening her eyes. She found him directly above her, nose to nose, a trail of blood trickling out of his left ear. He was covered in dust, his hair stuck up at odd angles, but his mouth was pulled up in a brilliant smirk that, despite the current situation, made her stomach do a somersault.

She could barely hear him laugh, but she read his lips just fine. "I said: let's never do that again."

* * *

"What the _Hell_ were you two thinking?" Auror Diggle admonished the two as St. Mungos nurses tended to their bleeding ear drums. Hermione had lost all of the hearing out of her right ear, but given that she could have wound up dead, she took it the loss as a win. She cast a sideways glance at Draco in the next infirmary bed, sharing careful stares before she turned her eyes back towards Greg. "You could have gotten yourself killed. Harry told you to stay behind _-why_ would you disobey a direct order?" Though his tone was fierce, he was rubbing her hand with the pad of his thumb delicately.

"I'm sorry, sir." Hermione stared into his green eyes for a moment, before shifting them down to her lap. "It… it was my idea. I thought I could help. I went in… Draco followed me."

"Is that so?" Diggle reached up and tilted her head back up to look at him. "Because I have a statement from Dean that says Malfoy ran in first. And it was the both of you that backed _him_ up."

Hermione's heart raced. She had been caught in her lie, but she refused to go down without a fight. "No." She sat up, her head swimming with pain. "Dean must remember it wrong. I was the one that took off -if it wasn't for Auror Malfoy following me… I might be dead right now." So, it wasn't a complete lie. He _had_ shielded her from most of the explosion. Greg searched her eyes, as if trying to make sense of her words, but gave up and nodded slowly. "Alright, Hermione. If you say so." He leaned over, kissed her atop her forehead, and whispered, "I'm just glad you're alright." He moved his attention over to Draco, who had his head propped up on three pillows. "I suppose I should thank you then, Malfoy."

Draco cast a glance over to Hermione, wiggled an eyebrow, and smirked. "I was just doing my civic duty, sir. Merlin knows someone has to watch out for Granger. She's a wonky spell ready to set off on most occasions." He mockingly blew her a kiss, to which Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, leave it to him to be the arrogant hero in play. She supposed it would sell it better than him being humble. Lord knew he was anything but that.

"Right…" Diggle stood up from the edge of Hermione's bed. "I'll expect full reports on my desk Monday morning. In the meantime, you both should get some rest." He waved thoughtfully at her before he left the infirmary wing.

Hermione threw her head back on the pillows and sighed. "How did we manage to get out of that one?"

"The same way anyone does. Really, Hermione, that lie was well thought up. Are you sure you wouldn't have done better in Slytherin?" He tucked one of his arms behind his head and chuckled. "We're lucky Diggle has it hard for you. Otherwise we might have been thrown out of the Auror academy completely."

"I really wish he didn't. The whole thing makes everything so… complicated."

"How? Is he not dreamy enough for you? I wouldn't think your standards were that high. You did marry a Weasley."

That was it. Hermione shot up in her bed, though the force of it made her head ache. "I can take you teasing me about Greg. I can take the taunts. The jeers. But you will _never_ insult Ron to me again, do you hear?"

Draco frowned. "Easy, Granger. It was just teasing."

"He's my late husband. I don't taunt you about your divorce. Stop chastising my relationship with Ron."

He stared down at the floor, thinking. "Alright. Sorry." He swung his legs over the bed and sat up to match her. "Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain. It was just teasing. I'm sorry if I crossed a line." The silver flecks in his eyes darkened. "Besides, I'm pretty sure I don't have much room for talk. I made a pretty shitty husband myself." He rubbed his tired eyes and yawned.

"You owe me an explanation." She stated.

"I know." Rising from his bed, he fumbled his way over to hers and sat down beside her. "And you'll get it. But not here."

"When, then?"

"When they discharge us, come back to the Manor with me." He turned his face to her and stared intently. Noticing her skeptical expression, he added, "You could have turned me in right then, Granger. But you didn't. You know that things don't add up. Thanks for believing in me."

"I only did it because I want answers. And if you go to Azkaban, I might never have them." Her head throbbed with pain, and her eyes went out of focus. She shook her head, trying to force herself to stay awake, and that's when she felt Draco reach out and cup the back of her neck. "What…?" Her eyes shifted in and out of focus, and she could feel herself falling. But Draco kept his hold on her and steadied her back against the pillows.

"Don't worry," he whispered to her, sliding his hand out from under her neck. His torso leaned next to her as he propped himself up on his elbow to hover over her, "It's just a side effect of the box. It'll wear off soon. That thing drained a lot of magic from you. You're going to want to sleep it off."

"Right…" She could feel herself slipping. "Don't… don't leave me alone…"

"Never." His eyes were serene pools of grey, and they allowed her mind to fall through the cracks. Her eyes closed, and before she knew it she was gone, lost in sleep.

* * *

Draco watched her fall timidly to sleep as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. So many emotions stirred within him: gratefulness, admiration, nervousness, agitation. A part of him wanted to lay down next to her and let sleep consume him too. A month of sleeping alone without the heat of someone was lonely beyond compare. But he shook his head and fought the urge. This feeling stemmed from loneliness, he told himself. He wouldn't let it drag him into lying next to his partner as if they were anything more than that. Because they weren't.

He shifted on the bed and sat up, giving a long stretch. As he stood, he heard the infirmary door open once more, and he turned to see someone he had never expected: Astoria. Her hair was slightly disheveled, as if she had thrown herself out of bed and put on clothes without a second thought. Draco was still wobbly on his feet (his equilibrium was off balance from his damaged eardrum), but he still managed to take a few lingering steps toward her. She came the rest of the way, lips pursed together as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"You stupid idiot," she cried into his chest. "You could have gotten yourself blown up."

"Tori…" He cautiously put his arms around her, and when he was sure she wouldn't rip away he gripped her tight to him "Tori, I'm alright."

Astoria sobbed quietly. "I know… I know… when they sent an owl to tell me you were in St. Mungos… I… I didn't know what to expect."

"Just a busted eardrum," he whispered into her hair. "Nothing serious."

"But it could have been."

"Where's Scorpius?"

"With my mother." She tilted her face up as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't want him here when I…"

"Tori, before you finish that sentence, let me explain-"

She leaned up and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Draco groaned, falling into it, but she pulled away before he could deepen it. "I'm sorry, Draco. I'm so sorry to do this, but I… I just can't." She pulled away from him and reached into her back pocket. "I know you're trying to make up for what you've done. And I won't stop you. But I cannot be the one to hold your secrets. I'm sorry." She extended her arm and presented a folded parchment to him. "I won't tell a soul about what you've confided in me. I promise that on my life. But I need you to sign this, Draco. I won't sit at home waiting on an owl to tell me you're gone. And I…" She fumbled her words. "I-I won't forgive you f-for what you've done." She pushed the paper into his hands. "Sign the papers, Draco. Free me from this world you've hidden from me." And then she turned and walked away, her beautiful brown hair bouncing with each step as if to wave him goodbye. Draco gripped the parchment in his shaking hand as the door shut firmly behind her.

"Tori…"

He swore he could feel his heart shatter all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much emotion in this chapter...
> 
> I'm working on my action writing skills. I think that's why this chapter took me so long. There were so many things going on in my head, it was hard to put it down in words. I think, finally, after nearly a week, I've done it. Please let me know what you think! I should have another chapter here pretty soon. More plot. Possible romance starting?! Ooh, I wonder how it will develop. *sly smile*


	8. Bad Wolf (side A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeee! Finally! We will have them alone together!
> 
> What will happen?

* * *

**_"I've been running from it all my lifetime_ **   
**_There's nothing wrong with you, I'm searching for my right mind_ **   
**_Oh, you should've seen it they were resting on the restless_ **   
**_This happened, literally - woke up I was headless_ **   
**_I woke up I was headless  
_ ** **_Ima make a deal with the bad wolf so the bad wolf don't bite no more"_ **

**_"Bad Wolf" by AWOLNATION_ **

* * *

The next time Hermione awoke she was on a soft pillow top, surrounded by satin sheets. Her head was swimming as if she had a very bad hangover, and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light of the room. She was no longer in the infirmary, of that she was quite sure. As she sat up on her elbows, she realized she was in a large four poster bed. The bedroom walls were luminescent, and tiny lights seemed to magically glow on the walls -like stars, she mused. The ceiling was bewitched to resemble the night sky like Hogwarts. It was all so beautiful, Hermione took her time examining each and every bit of it. It was then it dawned on her that the star constellation directly above her. "Draco…"

"That's my name," said a cool voice from the corner. Hermione jumped as she noticed him sitting in a large, expensive looking chaise lounge, a book in his lap and the tip of his wand illuminating for light. How had she not detected him before?

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Where I do most of my dastardly scheming -my room."

"How did I get here?"

"Kidnapped you." He read her horrified expression and smirked. "Relax, Granger. I volunteered to take you home when they were ready to release us. So… I brought you here."

"They'd release someone who was still unconscious?"

"They would if there weren't enough hospital beds to go around. Which there weren't. -I signed off on being your primary caregiver until you came to. And wow- you're still alive. Would you look at that?" He cast her a sly wink before whispering, " _nox_ " and snuffing out the light. Curtains moved of their own accord on one of the walls, drawing themselves apart to reveal morning sunlight. It stung her eyes, and she put her arm over her face to shield them. Draco arose from his chair and strolled over to the window to peek out of it. His face was worn, still covered in dust and blood, and there were dark circles under his tired eyes. _Had he gotten_ _any_ _sleep?_ She wondered.

"It's morning…" she whispered.

" _Brava_. What else obvious would you care to point out?"

"You don't have to be an ass…" She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and allowed her eyes time to adjust. It was then that she noticed that her right ear no longer throbbed with pain as it did before. Not to mention the hearing had returned. She was relieved to know it hadn't been permanent. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been kicked in the chest by a Hippogriff. You?"

"About the same. But more in my head."

"That will wear off soon enough. The Pandora Mine stole quite a bit of magic from you. You're bound to feel the side effects until your body replaces it. I wouldn't be performing much magic today, if I were you."

Hermione nodded slowly, her memories surfacing slowly. "You owe me some answers, Malfoy."

"And I'll be happy to provide them for you," he replied, stealing a glance her way. "But might I recommend some breakfast first? And perhaps a shower?"

"I don't… I don't have any clothes to change into."

"Got you covered." He nudged his head in the direction of the end of the bed. Hermione looked down to see a folded pile of jeans, shirt, and socks.

"How did you…?"

"I sent my best house elves to fetch them."

She frowned, agitated. "That's breaking and entering, Draco."

"Is it? Can't help it if you leave your home open to magical entrees." He smirked. "Although I have to say, it was amusing when I realized they hadn't come back with any undergarments. Whoops." Her eyes widened, and he laughed. "Again, only joking. They're under the pants."

"You must think yourself a real comic." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Lucky for me."

"Indeed."

She cast her legs over the side of the bed and made to stand. Every muscle cried out in pain as she pushed herself up off of the bed and staggered to her feet. "I take it back. I feel like I've been hit by a train." She eyed Draco nervously as he approached her and offered an arm out. "What are you doing?"

"I'm attempting to be nice. Don't sour it up by commenting on it." He snatched up her hand and looped it through his arm, bracing her. "The bathroom is just beyond that door over there. Come on. You smell like burnt soup."

"Charming," she sneered, leaning on him heavily as he walked her across the room. Her legs felt as if they had run for miles. Her muscles pulled in her back like taut wires. Was this what it felt like when magic was taken from you? It was as painful as a car crash. And Hermione knew what that had felt like -she had been in one when she was ten. "Thank you… for helping me."

"I told you not to comment," he chided, leading her into the bathroom. Everything about it was lavish, from the gold faucets to the marble floors and walls. A bathtub the size of a small Jacuzzi already had water drawn, steam rising from the top. The entire room smelled of rose and chamomile. She stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes to Draco, suddenly feeling very guilty. He was dirty from head to foot, probably exhausted from an entire night without sleep, and here he was caring for her. She released his arm and leaned against the vanity.

"I've got it from here," she whispered.

His lovely steel eyes blinked once, processing her words, before he nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Hermione gave out a relieved breath and began the very slow process of peeling layer by layer of clothing from her skin. As she dipped her leg over the tub and slid in, she realized that the water had been laced with healing herbs. When she was up to her neck in water, she could feel her body begin to tingle as the herbs worked their magic on her aching joints.

"This… is nice…" she whispered to herself before submerging her head into the water as well. Her hair tickled her face as it floated around, and she stayed under the water for as long as she could, savoring the tranquility of the quiet. She came up for air, breathing in the scented room with vigor. This was quite possibly the best bath she had ever had. Noticing a loofa at the corner of the tub, she reached out and began to scrub her skin, already feeling the effects of the bath. She rolled her head forwards, backwards, to the side as she scrubbed, and when she was thoroughly satisfied she dipped her head back and began to massage her scalp. As her fingers ran over the base of her skull, she was reminded of Draco's hand as it cradled her in the infirmary. His fingers had been so warm, so gentle. She couldn't remember the last time a man had touched her like that since Ron.

Her eyes shot open and she jerked upright in the water. What was she doing? Of course no man had touched her like that since Ron. Not even now. Because Draco hadn't meant for it to be thought of in such a way. It had been to protect her as she had collapsed on the bed.

**_Don't… don't leave me alone._ **

**_Never._ **

Had she really said that? Had he?

What was going on between them? Why did that memory give her butterflies in her stomach? Why did the sight of his stunningly gray eyes still burn behind her eyelids?

A knock came from the door. "Granger."

She blinked. "Y-Yes?"

"I…" She heard the door thump, and she imagined him leaned up against it. "It's official, you know."

"What is?" she asked, the bathroom distorting her voice as it echoed. Even though there was a door between them, she instinctively covered her breasts.

"My divorce.," he answered her. "As of this morning."

Her heart gave a jump. Why did it do such a thing? Perhaps it was sadness on his behalf. She glanced down at the water and then back to the door. "Are… are you alright? I mean… how are you coping?"

"As best as one can." His voice wavered. "I'm sure it will be all over the papers by tomorrow. I believe I'll have been the first Malfoy in history to receive a divorce. She came last night… practically begged me to sign them. What was I supposed to do? Force her to love me?" He chuckled darkly. "You know, we saved countless lives last night, but I can't help but feel as if whatever I do will never be enough to make up for what I've done."

"And…. What _have_ you done?" she asked. There was no reply, and then the door cracked open ever so slightly. She gasped and attempted to cover herself, but when she caught sight of the remorse and sheer disdain for himself lurking in those silver orbs he called eyes, she forgot all about it. His eyes didn't even register her naked body covered by water and bubbles. As he stepped across the threshold and shut the door, she could only hold her breath as he took step after careful step towards her. Something about him was different, though she couldn't quite place it. He slunk down next to the tub, leaning the back of his skull against the porcelain edge. His eyes closed, and he sighed.

"I could show you," he said quietly.

"Show me?" she repeated.

"I'm fairly well versed in Occlumency as well as Ligilimency. If you allow me to enter your mind, I could share some of my memories with you."

"You would do that?"

"I'm tired, Hermione. I'm tired of lying. Especially to the people… that I care about." He paused.

"You care about me?"

"I've grown quite fond of picking on you, yes." He smirked, eyes still shut. "And… I suppose… you're not the worst person in the world I've ever grown to know."

"You really know how to make a girl feel appreciated," she said sarcastically, her heart hammering against her chest.

His smirk grew wider. "Believe me, Hermione, if I wanted to, I could make you feel _very_ appreciated."

Hermione shifted in the water nervously, unsure if his words meant he could be even more of a prat… or something else. Because it definitely sounded like something else. But he wouldn't mean that. No… never _that_ …

She thought about her next words carefully. "I'm sure you'd love the opportunity to."

He quirked up an eyebrow and pried open one of his eyes to look at her. "Did I imagine it, or did you just flirt with me?"

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Well, you _are_ naked…"

Her body flushed pink under the weight of his words, and she drew her knees up to her chest, being sure to bring her legs close together to prevent him from peeking at any... exposed body parts. She bit down on her tongue, thinking of a better comeback. "Did it take you this long to notice? I was fairly convinced you might play for the other team."

Both of his eyebrows raised this time, and he turned his head to get a better view of her. Hermione shoved him in the shoulder with her free hand and glared. He chuckled. "I have a son, Hermione. Believe me, I enjoy the feeling of a woman beneath me." His voice caressed her ears like velvet. "Perhaps that's why I didn't care to point out your lack of clothing. Because I enjoy a _woman_ ' _s_ body."

"You are absolutely immitigable."

"Such a large word for such a tiny woman." He gestured towards her chest.

Hermione sighed. "Are you quite through?"

"No." He shook his head. "Not in the slightest." His face softened. "Feeling any better?"

"As it so happens… yes." She pulled her legs tighter to her. "This bath is wonderful. Or at least it was… until an arrogant toe rag came in and ruined it."

"Point him out to me. I'll be sure to ruff him up." He winked. His head leaned back against the tub again, but his eyes still stayed locked on hers. His stare intensified, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of her skin. Perhaps he was. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"I'm conflicted."

"About your divorce?" she asked suggestively.

"That's the furthest thing from my mind right now."

"Then… What is on your mind?" Did she really want to know?

"…If you must know… You." He sat up then, turning to face her, elongating his arms to rest along the edge of the tub on either side of her. Oh lord, the way he was looking at her, like a lion sizing up his kill… His fingers reached out and traced down her leg, caressing the inner part of her calf. He stopped at the top of the water, touch still lingering. She fought the primal instinct in her to react to it. "Here I am, the first day out of my marriage, and do you know where my mind wanders to? You'd _think_ it might be on my ex-wife. Or you might _think_ it would be on the naked woman sitting precariously in my bathtub. You would _think_ my mind would be on those perky little breasts you think I didn't take a peek at, or how beautiful your skin glows under the water. But you really want to know where my mind is now, Hermione?" He swallowed hard. "It's on you. Just you. About how I'm afraid that I'll lose you the way I have everyone else in my sad little blink of life."

Her skin warmed under his touch, even if it was just the tips of his fingers on her leg. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, putting his hand on her in such a way. What did they mean to each other? They were just training partners, weren't they? Whatever feelings he had for her, they weren't romantic. They couldn't be. He was still mourning the loss of his relationship, the way she had for so long. She remembered the loneliness. The isolation. The craving for someone, _anyone_ to talk to her. Perhaps that was what he was feeling now. She would not instigate this any further than what it was. She would comfort. She would not let herself do anything else.

_This is Draco Malfoy. The same git who has hurt you time and time again. Why would you want to do anything else with him? Why would you even consider it?_

But there was another voice in her head, a softer side, whose words rang true as well. _This is the same man who has protected you. Who has bared himself to you. He isn't the same boy you knew at Hogwarts. This is someone much more mature. Darker. You always did like a bit of darkness…_

The first voice was concerned. _What would Ron say if he saw you making eyes at Malfoy?_

 _Ron is_ dead _._

_This is a married man._

_No. He wasn't. Not anymore._

_For less than a day! He isn't even attracted to you._

_Then why is he staring at you like a wolf hungry for his supper?_

"Say something," he whispered.

So she did what she did best. She ran her eyes over his handsomely grubby face and deflected. "You've got dirt on your nose." She gestured out and touched her index finger to the end of it. "Did you know?"

He smirked. "I had an inkling." His hand shot up and grabbed her arm, pulling her through the water to him. Hermione squealed in protest, but her voice died away when suddenly both of his hands were on the sides of her face, embracing her like a cup of tea that might spill over if he wasn't delicate. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, and she forgot about her now exposed body as her fingers coiled around his wrists. He simply stared at her, lips slightly parted, chest rising up and falling as he took breath after bated breath. His thumb pads stroked across her temples skillfully as he said, "Simply stunning."

"Wh-what?" she croaked out. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Oh yes. That didn't sound idiotic at all…

"You." He leaned forward. "Are." His face tilted. " _Stunning_." And then his eyes closed, and his face grew closer to hers, and the panic spread throughout her as she realized what was about to happen and oh Lord this wasn't happening, was it, this simply wasn't -

All of her thoughts died away as his soft lips found hers. His kiss was firm, yet tender, full of confidence in its performance. As his mouth moved against hers, she felt the tug of encouragement from her body that told her to react. And so she did, giving way to her basic, feral instincts and kissed back. Her fingers released his wrists and slid further up to his hair, digging into the soft, messy tresses. Draco groaned, pulling her closer, pressing his fingers tighter around her as his tongue darted out and brushed against her lower lip. She gasped at the sudden rush of heat that swept through her core, and he took the gamble, deepening the kiss with a heavy sigh. Hermione felt the warmth of his tongue slide against hers, tasting him, inhaling his scent, listening to the water slap against the edge of the tub as she pulled him even closer. She was so enthralled by the kiss that she barely had time to register that his fingers had released her face to slide down to the sides of her smooth, wet arms.

Neither of them broke the kissing as he climbed over the edge of the tub and into the water with her, nor even when he pulled her up and into his lap. His hands raked over her smooth, supple thighs and rested just at the edge of her pelvic bones. The sensation of his soaked clothing brushing against the skin of her breasts made her moan helplessly into his mouth. He smirked into the kiss, digging his nails into her, finally forcing her to break the kiss as her back arched. Hermione's eyes fluttered open, mouth parted, hands on his shoulders. She looked down to him, only then caring of the intimacy between their positions. She was fully exposed to him, spread open like a sexually charged vixen.

"Well, well…" He grinned up at her. "Hermione, I have to admit, I rather enjoy this side of you."

Hermione's cheeks flushed with blood, and she shielded her breasts with shaking hands. She didn't remove herself from his lap, fearing that he might get the entirety of her if she even remotely moved. He probably already had, but that didn't mean she was going to allow it any further. "I-I… what just happened?" she asked, more to herself than to him. But that didn't stop him from answering her.

"Fifteen years of sexual tension finally coming to fruition."

She scowled at him. "You're married. I mean -you were married. Until this morning. And I… I shouldn't have… I don't do this. This isn't what I do, Draco. I don't just bare full frontal nudity in the midst of a kissing frenzy and I don't have one night stands and-"

"Slow down there, Granger," he interrupted, placing his fingers on the side of her neck. "Sometimes a kiss is just that. _A kiss_."

"You… you mean you don't mean to take me to bed?" she asked, confused.

He laughed at her. "No. No I don't believe so." He shifted his weight in the water, straightening his back and taking Hermione in tow. He leaned forward and brushed his lips tauntingly against hers. "But if I ever should decide that I wanted to… I guarantee you would know immediately." His breath tickled her skin, caressing the very breath from her. "And I _guarantee_ you that you would _beg_ me to take you." He pecked her lips with a quick kiss and pushed her off of him, settling her on the other side of the tub. Dripping with soapy water, he climbed out of the bath and grabbed up a nearby towel. He was still laughing as he began to towel dry his soaked body. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty. I'll see you downstairs?" He draped the towel over his wet head, blew her a mocking kiss, and strolled over to the door. "Do clean yourself up, Hermione. You're such a _filthy_ girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I loved writing this chapter! I've had this in my head from day one of this story, and I'm so pleased with how it turned out. Originally, Draco had been the one in the bath, but I switched that up with the fountain scene, and I think this fits so much better. The next chapter will be told from Draco's perspective, so we'll get to see what is going on in his head after the wake of this kiss.
> 
> Again, please check out "Hollow Moon" by Awolnation.
> 
> PLEASE let me know what you thought! Love to hear back!  
> A.


	9. Bad Wolf (B side)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I don't normally do this, but I'm writing the intro without having written the chapter first. Listening to Awolnation (again). I say hey, stick with the theme of the chapter, since this is a part two. I don't typically do perspective writings from both characters, but I feel that this scene is so important to both Draco and Hermione, it wouldn't be fair if we didn't get his side of the kiss too. But for the sake of everyone's sanity, there's not a point in going over every single detail, like every motion from both of them. I see writers do this a lot, and I get bored of the 2nd perspective quickly.
> 
> So… hopefully this chapter does what I want it to. Hopefully this adds insight.
> 
> Much Love. See you on the other side.  
> A.
> 
> A/N: I've just finished Draco's perspective, and… It's so much hotter than Hermione's. Oh, dear baby Jesus.

**"Jailbreak" by Awolnation**

**See, I've been working on a jailbreak**   
**Got no time for a new faith**   
**Any moment they'll replace me**   
**Should have tried to get to know you**   
**I've been working on my timing**   
**Insecurity beside me**   
**But your taste is so inviting**   
**Should have tried to get to know you**

* * *

"I'm tired, Hermione," he answered her, tempted to just drift off right here and now. Depression had crashed over him hours ago, taking most of his strength and resolve. "I'm tired of lying. Especially to the people…" The confession was just as shocking to him as it escaped his lips. "That I care about." Yes. Care. That was a delicate word, wasn't it? It held so many connotations, each one greater than the last. He cared about very few things in this world, and even fewer still since he signed his marriage away not five hours before. He still cared about Tori, he supposed, the way he cared for his father -that kind of love for the people who've wronged you just seemed to grow calloused. Thinking back, he would have never betrayed either of their love the way they had his. It was all so perverse, tearing someone's heart in two. He would never do it to Scorpius, or his mother, or…

"You care about me?" Hermione's voice squeaked out like a mouse in a church on Sunday morning. Yes, that was the question on both of their minds, wasn't it? He supposed he did care, didn't he? Something primal in him screamed at him nearly every chance it got to protect her. Maybe it was because she knew the feelings he possessed. They matched in nearly every way. Intelligent. Quick thinkers. Marked by darkness, branded by those who sought to use them, and now they even shared the loss of a spouse, even if it was in different ways. The connection was there, hidden under all the useless ruble of their school years. He wanted to protect her, because he had always wished someone had been there to protect him.

But of course, he wouldn't let her know any of that. He wasn't a complete mush. "I've grown quite fond of picking on you, yes. And… I suppose… you're not the worst person in the world I've ever grown to know."

"You really know how to make a girl feel appreciated."

A girl… yes… he supposed she _was_ that too. It only then dawned on him the way he had barged in on her bath time. _Whoops_. Of course, she hadn't told him to get out, had she? He tried to recall any bit of body he had seen when he had approached her, but he had been so focused on his own heartache, he hadn't taken the time to look. He'd have to do that, he noted.

He wasn't even aware of how wide he was grinning as he imagined what Granger would deem worthy of appreciation. Would hers be a cup of tea? A leather bound book? Someone sending her into a dismally sweet orgasm? Diggle was probably already on that one. "Believe me, Hermione, if I wanted to, I could make you feel _very_ appreciated." Better than Diggle ever could. –Wait, _what_?

"I'm sure you'd love the opportunity to."

Wait. _What_? **_What_?** He needed to get a look at her face to ascertain the situation. He'd been married for years-it had been so long since he had heard coy quip. Tori had been so straight forward… As he pried open an eye, he caught a glimpse of her porcelain skin as it glowed against the water. Well, well. Granger had a very nice rack, didn't she? Who would have guessed? A bit smaller than he was used to, but those nipples… was she even aware how exposed she was? "Did I imagine it, or did you just flirt with me?"

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

To be honest, he had no idea what was going on anymore. So he answered her with the obvious. "Well, you _are_ naked…"

Watching her squirm in the water to cover herself was priceless. She should have blamed herself. If she hadn't have pointed out the fact that she was a girl, this all might not have never happened. But as it were…

"Did it take you that long to notice? I was fairly convinced you might play for the other team."

Yes. This was definitely flirting. The flush on her cheeks. The nervous push to his shoulder. The way she covered herself so. He purposefully glazed his eyes over her form to make her nervous. It was fun seeing her this way; all confused and vulnerable. It was nice when the tables were turned. He'd been too vulnerable for his tastes as of late. "I have a son, Hermione," He teased, "Believe me, I enjoy the feeling of a woman beneath me." Oh, look at the way her lips parted. This was priceless. "Perhaps that's why I didn't care to point out your lack of clothing. Because I enjoy a _woman's_ body."

He tried very hard to keep his instinctual sexual urges from rising to the surface, but it had been so long since he had even remotely been so close to a naked, flirtatious, intriguing individual. So long, he thought quietly as they quipped back and forth. Tori hadn't wanted to be intimate during the later part of her pregnancy, and then after, she had cut him off completely when she had found out he had wanted to be an Auror. How did Granger accept Weasley's position so freely? She talked so highly of her late husband -what was her impression of Draco himself? Flirtatious nature aside, she hadn't once told him directly that he should give up on this endeavor. Would she, once she knew the truth? Would she leave him too? He didn't think he could stand it. He'd made a friend out of the very woman who used to detest him. If he could do that, could he convince her to stay once she knew who he really was, deep inside? Could those soft brown eyes of hers truly be capable of complete forgiveness? If she could, could Scorpius too? Could Draco die with a peaceful conscience?

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?" Oh, how melodic her voice was when she said his name. Without hate. Without fear. It was something of a dream to him.

"I'm conflicted."

"About your divorce?"

Oh yes, that terrible situation he was trying to forget… The very reason he hadn't been able to sleep a wink, despite his aching bones and exhausted mind. He'd deal with that situation later. When he was alone. When he could break down without having to put on a brave face.

No. Now, something else poked at his brain. "That's the furthest thing from my mind right now."

"Then… what is on your mind?" Did he really want to tell her?

Well, he was never one to shy away from a challenge. "If you must know… You." He watched her intently, honing in on a reaction, but when he didn't receive one he turned towards her and braced himself against the bath's edge. Her leg was quivering in the water. Did she even notice? He reached out to calm her, finding the smooth skin more than pleasing to his touch. Touching a woman that didn't glare at him was something he hadn't experienced lately. It was… soothing. "Here I am, the first day out of my marriage," Which had been over for longer than he cared to admit, hadn't it? Physical intimacy was something he gauged as ways of showing affection, adoration. But Astoria had barely let him touch her since Scorpius had been born. He craved it. "And do you know where my mind wanders to? You'd think it would be on my ex-wife. You would think it would be the naked woman sitting precariously in my bathtub." And it had been for a brief moment, but not for the sexual nature in which someone might perceive it. It was intimate. It was exposing for both of them. "You would think my mind would be on those perky little breasts you think I didn't take a peek at, or how beautiful your skin glows under the water." He had taken a bit of a peek. He was a man, after all. "But you really want to know where my mind is now, Hermione?" He tried his best to keep it together. Even if she was the naked one, he was more exposed than he had ever let himself be around her. "It's on you. Just you." Just those beautiful brown doe eyes that didn't hate him. Maybe he shouldn't share his memories. Maybe he could go on with this façade a bit longer… "About how I'm afraid that I'll lose you the way I have everyone else in my sad little blink of a life."

His mother and father had left the country after the War, content on settling in their summer cottage to avoid the prying eyes of the tabloids. It had been Draco left to pick up the pieces of the Malfoy Manor. His friends had left him after they had discovered his turn of heart for the imperfect blood. It had been Draco to divulge himself around the wrong sort in order to feel accepted again. Astoria had left him because she couldn't handle a marriage that had been built on secrets and lies. And he knew he had to take blame for that. It had been Draco to man up enough to admit that the only good thing he'd ever done was help contribute to Scorpius's precious life. And if he didn't fix himself, he'd lose his son as well.

But Granger… Granger was different. She had known him for the better part of his life. She had watched him grow up. She had seen the coward he was in school. She had witnessed his xenophobia, his shallow heart, his callous words. She'd seen the Dark Mark branded on his arm and was the only one never to have flinched at the sight. She was the one to encourage him, to see the good in him, even when he didn't think he had any at all.

Maybe he was lonely. Maybe that's why he suddenly wanted her to tell him that it was all going to be alright. Or maybe it was because under all of the fears and doubts that everyone had when they looked at him, he wanted Granger to look inside, see the real him, and still find something in him worth saving. Was he even worth saving at this point?

Merlin, look at her. How had he not seen it before? How pretty she was…

Inside and out.

Why had he been such an arse all those years to her? Why had he never given their friendship a chance? Everyone needed a Hermione Granger in their life. But not everyone was privy to such a privilege, were they? Potter, Weasley…. They had been given such a rare gift in the woman before him. And now fate had given him a second chance. But to do what, exactly?

"Say something." _Anything, Granger. Say anything. Tell me I'm an arse. Tell me I'm not worth it._

"You've got dirt on your nose." She poked him directly at the tip of his nose. "Did you know?"

It took everything in him not to laugh. Out of all that she could have said… it was perfect. "I had an inkling." He couldn't take it anymore. Something in him needed her closer. He needed to look into those chocolate eyes and feel her soul. He grabbed out and tugged her to him, fingers sliding over her cheeks, afraid at any moment that she might turn him away. She had every right to. He had no claim to being so intimately close to her. When he felt the soft caress of her fingers as the wrapped around his wrist, he knew he was in way too deep. He stroked the sides of her face, taking in the beautiful porcelain skin, the water dripping off of her long eyelashes, the way her eyebrows were quirked in confusion. "Simply stunning."

Her entire face went cherry pink. Adorable. "Wh-what?"

"You. Are _. Stunning_."

And then, without thinking, he kissed her. And oh, the taste of her lips against his… it was what he had pictured when he was an adolescent, naive boy imagining his first kiss. She tasted like water, and fire, and kindness, and sexual tension. And when she started to kiss him back, oh Merlin how he wanted to forget everything they'd just been through and live in the moment. So he did, letting her slip her fingers through his hair. She felt so good. Every bit of her was good. He wanted to know what good tasted like on the inside. He brought her closer, licking at her lower lip as if to ask if she felt the need too. It surprised her, and as she gasped into his mouth he couldn't wait any longer. He dipped his tongue into her mouth and took in her taste, the smell of her pheromones, the heartbeat that pulsed in his ears like waves crashing against the ocean. His fingers traveled lower, wanting to take in every bit of the sensation of her skin under his, and without another thought about it he slipped into the tub with her, pulling her against his chest, scooping her up to be as close as he could to her.

It was as if her goodness was spilling into him as they kissed.

He had to control himself as he felt her shaking legs around him, and he gripped at her hips to steady her body. That's when she moaned. That's when he knew she felt it too. Oh, how intoxicating that moan was. Instincts kicked in, and he drove his nails into her, wanting to elicit more sounds. He wanted her to like it.

She pulled away, arching, head falling back slightly, completely lost in the moment. Her breasts literally were pushed into his eyesight, but he told himself that he needed to behave. He wouldn't take this too far. He couldn't. Not without losing her. So he minded his P's and Q's as he watched her come to the realization that she was naked in a tub with only a thin layer of clothing separating them.

"Well, well… Hermione, I have to admit, I rather enjoy this side of you."

Her hands left his shoulders and went right to her perfectly exposed tits, covering them. Of course. She'd play the prude. But he knew from her kiss she was far from that sexually repressed bookworm she had been in school. "I-I… what just happened?" she asked.

"Fifteen years of sexual tension finally coming to fruition." His answer dawned on him the moment he said it. All of the taunts, the hateful remarks, the distain for her… it had all been to cover up something he had repressed. Attraction. A crush he didn't realize he had been hiding until this very moment.

"You're married," she reminded him. "I mean -you were married. Until this morning. And I… I shouldn't have…" Oh yes she should have! "I don't do this. This isn't what I do, Draco. I don't just bare full frontal nudity in the midst of a heavy kissing frenzy and I don't have on night stands-"

Eager, wasn't she? "Slow down there, Granger." Not that he wasn't flattered. Not that the thought hadn't crossed his mind for a split second. He reached up to sooth her. "Sometimes a kiss is just that. A kiss."

"You… you mean you don't mean to take me to bed?"

He laughed out loud, surprised at her forwardness. Did he, though? Did he want to jump into bed with Hermione Granger not twenty-four hours into his divorce? No. He didn't want anything else at this moment. This was enough. This would sustain him. "No. No I don't believe so."

He was quite sure that she didn't mean to give off a disappointed frown. And if he didn't adjust himself in the water, he wasn't sure he could keep good to his word. So he pulled himself up, her with him, and took a moment to brush lips with her, giving her just a bit more before he shut the moment down, "But if I ever should decide that I wanted to…" When the time was right… when he was able to give himself to someone again… "I guarantee you would know immediately. And I _guarantee_ you would _beg_ me to take you." The look on her face was priceless, and he sealed his promise with a playful kiss. Yes, he thought to himself as he pushed her off of him and climbed out of the tub, laughing all the while, he just might find himself again. If she didn't hate him first.

He grabbed up a towel, relieved the air was cold so that he could take his mind off of how sexually charged he was. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty. I'll see you downstairs?" She looked so beautiful soaked from head to toe in that tub. But he couldn't let her know that. So he mocked her with a kiss and added, "Do you clean yourself up, Hermione. You're such a _filthy_ girl."

And then he left the bathroom. When he shut the door, he leaned back against it and closed his eyes. Merlin, he was going to need a very cold shower after this. A cold shower, a picture of his grandmother, and all of the Catholic guilt he could muster to take away the throbbing erection pressing up against his waterlogged trousers.

"If there is a God," He whispered up the ceiling, "Do me a favor, yeah? Just give me this one win."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM.   
> Alright, time to tell me what you thought... hopefully it satisfies?
> 
> I won't make you wait too long for the next one. It is so important. It is the moment we've all been waiting for. What secrets does Draco Malfoy hold?
> 
> Kisses.  
> A.


	10. Deal With The Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part, Hermione. Second part, Draco. All dark. All revealing.  
> This is Chapter Ten.  
> A.

**"I am a human being capable of doing terrible things.**   
**There's lighting striking all over the world**   
**I am a human being capable of doing terrible things.**   
**Run.**   
**You people are mistaken if you think that I'm awake and celebrating anything that I've become."**   
**-Run, AWOLNATION**

**Listen to the song. Feel the power behind it. Then read this chapter.**

 

* * *

Hermione gripped the edge of the banister as she made her way down the spiral staircase that led into the hallway below. Her legs were still shaking from her encounter with Draco, even after she had spent the majority of the allotted twenty minutes simply staring at herself in the mirror and telling herself to get a grip on reality. She had been swept up in the moment, lost in his touch that still lingered on her skin, even when he was nowhere to be seen.

Something about it was so… forbidden. Was it because she had never sat down to think about him in that light before now? Was it because he was her lost husband's bitter rival? She could only imagine the look Ron would have given her if he could have seen her caught up in that moment. Horrified. Mouth agape. A bit of disgust. She missed those faces he used to make. They had been her little escapes from reality, watching his facial expressions as he tried new every flavored beans, or slipping his mother's scratchy home-knit sweater over his large head. It amazed her she wasn't crying at the thought of Ron now. Maybe she was finally coming to terms with the fact that he was never coming back. But that didn't mean she was anywhere near closure. Not with Draco's secrets looming over her head, as well as Diggle's information on Ron's untimely demise.

Diggle. The thought of him made her stop cold on the last step. His distrust for Malfoy stemmed from practically nowhere except for the fact that he was an ex-Death Eater. Surely he could see what she saw? -No. He couldn't, could he? Because she was supposed to be his eyes and ears. 'Don't trust him.' She remembered Diggle telling her after the Patronus exams. 'He'll do anything to appear chaste.' Would that include saying something so intimate as caring for her? Was she truly in too deep to see the entire picture? Had she been seduced by biasness?

No, she told herself. She'd known Malfoy for such a long time -she knew his tells. Auror Diggle had said it himself. He had encouraged her to get him to open up. And he had. She had cracked him open like a lengthy, crisp book. But it slowly dawned on her that she wasn't sure if this was a story she would want to share with Greg. He didn't need to know all of the details -she was his liaison to figure out if Draco's intentions were in the right place. And she knew, deep down, that he couldn't fool her. His intentions were just as good as hers. And that's just what she would tell Greg when she saw him again. No, she wouldn't share another bit about Draco with him. There were just some things that weren't hers to share.

Share -like the way Draco was willing to share his memories with her. She knew what that meant -that while she allowed him into her mind, he could also see into her thoughts. And that scared the living daylights out of her. Not because she was worried of what she'd see -but of what he would find if he were to pry hard enough. Would he be able to look into her thoughts and see Auror Diggle's schemes? Would he think any less of her? She needed to come clean about it before she let him in. It was a gamble -telling him could just as easily shut him down completely. But the risk of not telling him far outweighed the damage she could cause if she didn't.

Could she keep it from him, she wondered? Not if he was as skilled as he claimed. And she was nowhere near masterful of Occlumency.

Then another thought, one that was only stemmed from the thought of Diggle, crossed the forefront of her mind. What if Draco wanted into her mind _not_ to share his thoughts with her, but to delve deep into hers for information?

The thought made her shiver.

She swallowed, stepped off the last step, and followed the direction of the smell of bacon. It didn't take her long to find the kitchen again, and she was thankful deep down that he hadn't made her sit in the dining room. Not where she got her hideous scars. She hoped she might never step inside there again. She found him sitting atop the counter, a plate of bacon and toast in his left hand, and a strip of bacon in his right. He was just about to bring it to his lips when he noticed her, smirked, and placed it back down. "I waited as long as I could. But I told you twenty minutes."

"S-Sorry about that," she replied, avoiding his gaze. She scooped up the second plate on the other end of the counter and sat on the counter top next to him. "I guess I was just thinking…"

He nodded thoughtfully. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

"For the Legilimency?" She hadn't ever had her head cracked into. Would it hurt?

"Nah. For when I shag you senseless."

She dropped her plate on the floor.

"Gullible much?" His head tilted back as he chuckled. "Of course for the Ligilimency." A small house elf popped into the room and began to clean up the shattered plate off of the floor as another apparated with a second plate. Hermione went to draw her wand from her sock to help clean, but Draco placed his hand on hers and shook his head. "No magic, remember? Not at least until tomorrow."

"R-Right." She watched him withdraw his hand and pick up a bit of bacon off of her plate. She opened her mouth to say thank you to the house elves, but he put the tip of the bacon in her mouth. She gripped it with her teeth, bit off a bit, and chewed.

"Good girl." He smirked, setting the bacon down. They ate in silence for a while, neither of them finding the need to say anything. It was peaceful. Hermione couldn't remember a time, even with Ron, when she could just eat her food without feeling the need to converse. It was an unspoken understanding. And it stayed that way until both of them had cleaned their plates. It was then that Draco withdrew his own wand and magically hovered the empty dishes into the sink.

"Are we going to talk about the kiss?" she asked.

"Probably not." He helped her off of the counter and towered over her. "Best not ruin a moment by dwelling on it."

She blushed. "Of course."

He raised his wand to her temple. "Are you ready?"

"What? Now?"

"How about the first Tuesday in December? Would that work better for you?- Of course now."

"Wouldn't it be more prudent to use a pensieve?"

"There's too much to cover. We don't have that kind of time to kill."

She chewed on her lower lip, afraid to tell him her own secret. "Draco… you should know something first."

"What? That you're a man? Nice try. I can attest that you're not."

"Would you stop being sarcastic for one _blasted_ moment?" she snapped, a bit harsher than she intended. His took a step back, withdrawing his wand.

"Whatever you have to say to me, Hermione, I'm pretty sure I'll find out in a matter of moments." His straightened his back and rotated one of his shoulders as if he were trying to pop the joint. "Besides, I'm fairly certain I have more skeletons in my closet than you do."

"My one skeleton would put a damper on -well, on _us_."

"Us?" He asked.

"Yes. Our friendship. Or… whatever this is." She read his weary expression and threw a hand up. "I know. Don't speak about it or ruin the moment. But I mean it. I need to tell you before we begin."

He frowned, mulling over her words, before shaking his head once. "No matter how you phrase it, if you let me read your mind, I'll know the intention behind it. Words are just words, Granger. I'd rather just see it for myself, if it's all the same to you."

Her throat closed up as panic bolted through her like a lighting strike. What if he closed her off completely after this? She didn't want to go back to the way things were before, arguing and nitpicking and completely shut out.

"Alright…" she found the strength to say. She closed her eyes. "Just get it over with."

* * *

Draco paused, taking in the sight of her. Whatever it was, she was most definitely frightened of the idea of him knowing. It put an uneasy feeling in his stomach. What could Hermione Granger possibly have to hide?

He choked down his questions with a firm swallow and raised his wand. He guessed he would find out. Closing his eyes, he focused on prodding her mind with his own, peeling back layer by layer of the surface thoughts -the nervous tension, the last image of him she had burned into her brain. He saw his lips pulled up in a smirk. He could feel her heart race. Good. He liked that it did.

He searched for her fears, which weren't very hard to find -there were so little. My, what a brave woman she was. He saw his Aunt Bella, but he pushed that aside immediately. No, that was her greatest fear. It wasn't for him to know. He could feel her mind pushing against his, almost trying to block him off as he approached her most recent secret.

"Relax," he whispered to her out loud.

She conceded, allowing him to open up the memory like a chapter in a book. There was Auror Greg Diggle, a bit more dashing than he remembered him in his own mind's eye, sitting across his desk, a thick manila envelope gripped tight within his fingers. Was this her secret? That she was attracted to him? No… there was something more going on. He delved deeper, until he could hear Diggle's voice in his own ears.  
 _  
"Is that what I'm hearing, Auror Granger?"  
_  
He scrubbed over the memory, searching for her reaction _. "He was a_ **Death Eater**. How could the Ministry let someone like him into the Auror division?"

The words stung like a venomous snake bite. So, she had detested his Death Eater status after all, had she? He felt the real her, here and now, watching with him, and felt her embarrassment. _Good_ , he thought. She deserved it. How could he have fooled himself to think differently of her? But even as he grew angry, it died away almost as soon as it had flared. He could feel her pain. Her honest judgement of him now. It wasn't the same.

 _"It is no coincidence that I paired you up with Draco Malfoy. Not in the least," s_ aid Diggle, drawing him back in.

_"Sir?"_

_"You, out of everyone that was in this room today, know him best. You might not know him on a personal level, but you grew up around him. You know his tells. His weaknesses. I can't investigate him myself. Believe me, I brought it up to the Minister of Magic himself. But I'm sure you have the same question boiling around in that brilliant mind of yours that's the same as mine."_

_"Why would Draco Malfoy become an Auror? What would he gain from it?"_

Draco felt himself being flung out of the memory, but caught himself at the last moment. Focus, he told himself.

"Granger," he said out loud. "Quit fighting this."

 _"Exactly. -What would an ex-Death Eater gain from becoming an Auror? Sympathy? Penance? Or perhaps something far more sinister?- That is where you come in, Miss Granger."_ Oh, now this was an interesting development. _"Say you'll be my eyes and ears. Say you'll watch Malfoy and report back to me."_

"Draco…" he heard her whisper, but he ignored it, shoving himself into the memory. He forced himself to feel her out, noting the apprehension that she had felt for Diggle's offer.

_"I'm sorry, sir. I think I'll earn my keep. Same as the rest."_

The writing on the manila envelope became the main focus of her memory, now. Weasley's file.

 _"That's… that's Ron's… that's his file."_ He watched her reach for it. Watched as Diggle pulled it back.

_"Quid Pro Quo, young apprentice…You don't think your husband's death was an accident. ...So, I'll make you that offer again. A guaranteed Auror position at the end of your training, and everything I have on your husband's case for information on Draco Malfoy. His movements. His strengths. Weaknesses. What he eats in the morning. I'll be damned if we let a former Death Eater into this administration without reconnaissance first."_

Draco jerked himself out of her head, anger bubbling over the edges of his psyche like boiling water.

"You… you lied to me," he whispered as she opened her eyes. He stepped back, away from her.

"This is why I wanted to tell you." She gulped, eyes pleading with him. "Greg blackmailed me. I had no choice."

"Is that what you tell yourself when you flirt with him? When he flirts with you? When you two literally eye fuck each other from across the room? -You had a choice, Granger." He glared at her. "So what have you told him? Hmm? Did you tell him about my life? About my wife? My child? Did you divulge every single secret I've ever confided in you?"

"Draco, listen to me-"

"Why should I? You have some nerve, Hermione. I bared my _soul_ to you. I thought we had an understanding."

"We do," she whispered, stepping closer. He backed away, though he was torn when he saw tears in her eyes. It took everything in him not to comfort her. He backed up into the counter, feeling the pain in his spine as well as his heart. He was foolish. How could he have thought so highly of her? She was just like everyone else. -She approached him carefully, slowly, assessing his mood as she went. "Draco, look into my mind again. _Please_." She reached out and touched his hand, but he jerked away. "Please, just one more time. If you don't like what you see, I'll resign from the Auror program tomorrow. You have my word."

That was a heavy promise. "And what good is your word to me, Granger?" he sneered. "You've lied to me from the very beginning."

She grimaced. "I deserve that. I know I do. But if you were in my head right now you'd know I'm telling the truth." She reached for his hand again, and this time he didn't pull away. "Please." Her brown eyes begged him. This was not what he had in mind when he had said she would. He snarled a low, guttural sound and raised his wand to her temple again.

"One chance," he growled. "That's it. Prove. Me. Wrong."

His mind swam in hers again, but this time it was on his drunken display at the fountain last night. How he had made fun of the muggles. He watched himself as he fell backwards into the fountain. He felt her concern for him as she rushed to his aid. He cringed as he saw himself so miserably drunk, but allowed her to continue to show him her memory. The image shimmered -no. That was him. He was shimmering, the moonlight reflecting back at him. Was this truly the way she saw him? He knew he was handsome, but _damn_. He didn't know just how handsome she had found him. Like _an ethereal god_.

His lips tugged back in a smirk.

"Focus," she chastised.

Then there was a flood of images flashing one by one like a film. Draco exposing his Dark Mark to her as she exposed her 'Mudblood' arm. Draco holding Scorpius. Her wrapping the baby tightly in her arms. She _loved_ Scorpius. She loved him, genuinely, after only meeting him once. He saw himself laid back on the grass after training, relaxed and glowing under the sun. His steel eyes. His smirk. His laugh. He saw himself kissing her. He felt her heart jump.

Then she was on the staircase, and he read over her memory with detail. He saw her resolve. Her disdain for Diggle forcing her into a situation she no longer wanted to be in. He was so far in her mind, he pushed her to the limits, sifting past what she wanted to show him and into things she wanted kept secret. He saw Weasley, covered in blankets, sick with a cold. He saw them dancing together at their wedding. He saw the closed casket funeral.

"Stop."

The Pandora Mine.

"Draco! I said stop!"

He read her captivation by its design. She had so many questions she wanted answered, one in particular about the part where it explodes… she wanted answers. But her mind was strong. She wouldn't let him see why. He knew he had gone too far -he began to remove himself from the inner workings of her brain.

"Do- do you believe me now?"

He bit his tongue, thinking. Guilt began to consume him. Sighing, he replied, "Against my better judgement… yes."

She let out a heavy breath. "Oh good." Her hand was still in his, he realized, but he didn't remove it. After the anger sluffed off, he rather liked the sensation. "What part changed your mind?"

"All of it." He blinked. "None of it. I'm not sure." He slowly allowed a smile to spread across his face. "You're rather attracted to me, you know."

"Don't get conceited. That's hardly the point."

"No, but it is a point, none the less." He brought her fingers up to his lips and kissed them. "Besides… I hardly have room to hold it against you, do I? You did it for Weasley. I'd have done the same if it had been…" He almost said Astoria's name, but quickly fixed his mistake, "Scorpius. Or any of my family. -You think that if you get your answers about the Mine, you might not need Diggle anymore. Or did I read that wrong?"

"You're correct." She nodded. "Are we good?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On what you'll think of me when we're done." Despite her betrayal, he could understand why she had agreed to it. And he could see, deep down, she wouldn't do it again. She cared for him, too, though he had been much too afraid to find out in what way. Finding out that your past childhood competition now thought of you as something else… it was a lot to take in. And it had only just developed. It wasn't like his emotional rollercoaster. She hadn't always had an underlined sexual undertone every time she had quipped him in school. Oh, revelations. How tawdry they were.

"I'll be here on the other side," she assured him. "I'm ready."

"Alright… just… one thing." He leaned down, touching nose to nose with her. It might have been too soon to expect another kiss from her willingly, but he didn't know if he'd ever have another opportunity to. So he stole one, assertively deepening the kiss so that he could remember the exact way she tasted. He'd want to savor this. -He pulled away, pressed his forehead to hers, and opened her mind up again, this time pulling in his own to open like a novel. He found his least favorite chapter, hesitated, and then began to divulge to her. _If you're going to run, run now._

* * *

A younger, frightened Draco Malfoy sat at a corner table of The White Wyvern, a pub located in Knockturn Alley. His hair was longer, his face thinner, and his sneer was particularly distasteful. Five empty mugs sat scattered about the table, and a sixth one was cradled in his hand like it was a life raft to cling to. This version of Draco was only months out of the War, and it weighed heavily on his disheartened face.

One question repeated in his mind over and over and over again. _What did it mean to be a Malfoy now?_

* * *

Someone approached the table. The window outside was no longer full of bright, gleaming sunlight, but was being beaten against by a downpour of heavy rain. There were no longer mugs surrounding him, but shot glasses and books. Old books. Books that perhaps hadn't been read in centuries. Ones hidden in his father's study at the bottom of a wine cellar. Draco looked older too. More worn. But stable.

"Some heavy reading." A wizard with dark eyes and scruff on his chin motioned to the pile of books on the table as he pulled over a chair and took a seat across from Draco. He had a thick head of white hair, though he couldn't have been older than his late twenties.

"Can I help you?"

"Is this your dissertation?" the man asked, withdrawing a folded parchment from his hand. It was a copy of the thesis paper Draco had written on rudimentary alchemy being combined with complex potions. It was something Professor Snape had told him to apply himself to before he passed, and he had intended to make good on that promise. He had never intended for it to be published. But somewhere along the lines, one thing had led to another…

"It says my name, doesn't it?" He smirked half-heartedly.

"So you are _Draco Lucius Malfoy_? _The_ Draco Malfoy?" The man looked nearly impressed. It was something Draco had not seen as of late; The Malfoy name was sullied beyond compare.

"If you know who I am, you know not to come near me." He gestured to his exposed Dark Mark. "I'm scum, haven't you heard? All over the papers."

"Ah. Yes." The man nodded. "If _I_ had that, I _wouldn't_ flaunt it around."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Well you're not exactly covering it up, are you?" The man extended his hand. "Cane's the name. Bastian Cane."

Draco raised a cool eyebrow but did not take it. "Is that all? Sort of simple, isn't it?"

"Sometimes the best names are." Cane did not retract his hand, and with a cross huff Draco shook it, noticing how deathly cold it was. Or maybe that was just his aura. Who could be sure? Those black eyes reminded Draco of a goat; dead, emotionless. "Anyways, Draco -May I call you Draco?"

"No."

"Right. Well, Draco." Cane ignored him. "I've noticed you've been in this pub nearly every night this month. Something special about the atmosphere here or…?" He turned his head, following Draco's direction. A woman sat perched at the bar top in a silver corset dress with black high heels. Her brown hair waved in ringlets down her back, and her red lips sipped on some sort of wine. She was reading some muggle book of that he was sure. "I could introduce you, if you'd like."

"You know her?" asked Draco.

"Hardly. But I doubt you'll have the gull."

"Bugger off."

"Now, Draco, I meant no disrespect. I'm here to help you."

"Well I never asked for anyone's help. I know how to talk to women."

Cane leaned in close, his sharp nose and cold black eyes reminding Draco of a shark. "This isn't about that pretty jewel at the bar. This is about your dissertation. Do you believe it's possible? Mixing alchemy with potions to create new sorts of magic?"

Draco nodded slowly. Bastian Cane's lips pulled back wide in a dastardly smile. "I'm in the position to make you an offer, Draco Malfoy."

"I'm not interested in money."

"No, you have loads of that. What I offer isn't money or power. What I offer you is your status back within society. Wouldn't you like to be a part of something great? Something that would make the world look past that Mark on your arm?"

Draco glanced down at the sullied tattoo and pulled his sleeves down. "Bastian, there's nothing you could to do get someone to look past this." The table grew quiet as Draco mulled around Cane's words. He glanced up towards the woman that had inadvertently drawn his attention from the moment she had walked in nearly a month ago.

" _What if I could make that mark go away_?"

A chill cracked over Draco's head like an egg, dripping down into his very bones. "That's not possible."

"Anything is possible. You just have to know where to look for answers -like your books. And my resources. Together, we could find a way…"

"And what's in it for you?"

"Results, Mr. Malfoy. The same magic that could strip you of that heinous mark could just as well benefit my cause as well."

"…What is your cause?"

"All in good time, Draco. As it stands… I think you're long overdue for an introduction with that beautiful creature over there. Excuse me for one moment." Bastian Cane arose from his chair, tilted his pointed face towards the woman, and stumbled over to the bar in full façade. In his best imitation of a drunkard, he knocked over her martini glass onto her book.

"Excuse you!" The woman sneered as the alcohol began to drip from the pages and down onto her lap.

"Sorry, Miss." Bastian grinned sluggishly. "Had a bit too much in me. I just had to come over here and tell you that you are _so_ fetching."

"Not interested."

"Of course you are. You're alone in a bar, aren't you?"

Angered flared in Draco. He rose from his chair and grabbed Bastian by the scruff of his collar. "Look, obviously she doesn't want to be bothered. So why don't you just shove off?"

Bastian Cane gave a sly wink. It startled Draco, but the woman didn't see. "Sorry, mate. Didn't realize she was spoken for." As he stepped back away from Draco, he slipped a card into his pocket. "See you around." He left the bar at once, slipping his long fingers into his pockets as he stepped out into the rain.

"What an idiot," the woman mumbled, extending her wand to scourgify the mess on her book and lap. Draco tipped the glass back upright and asked the bartender for a new drink. The woman rose an eyebrow and added, "Are you going to try to hit on me too, now?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, tossing a few galleons onto the bar top. "Sorry about him. He was trying to get you to talk to me."

"Do we know each other?"

"Oh, no. I doubt it. Though… I do believe I went to school with your sister, Daphne."

"Hmmm…" She eyed him over. "White blonde hair and silver eyes. You must be a Malfoy."

"Draco." He extended his hand to her. "And yes, Malfoy is my surname."

"It's nice to meet you, Draco." She smiled to him and took his hand. "Astoria."

* * *

The scene dissolved, and was replaced with an old, dusty study.

"You told me that you thought there was a way to remove this." Draco extended his arm out to Cane. "So, tell me what you had in mind."

"I'm interested to see what results occur when you aren't shackled by the Ministry regulations. If… I were to provide the materials you would need to experiment on how to remove your Dark Mark, I would require your services in my endeavors in return."

"And what exactly are those endeavors?"

"Glad you asked."

* * *

On the table sat a small, blue stone.

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"Why don't you find out? Touch it."

"Nice try. Do you really think I can't feel the energy coming off of it? It's cursed."

"Is it? Oh dear. I suppose you're just too smart for me." Cane smirked. He snapped his fingers, and the door opened behind them. Two burly looking men entered, dragging an unconscious man. "This is Frederick Tollman. Perhaps you've heard of him?"

"He's Azkaban's most wanted man," Draco answered in awe.

"That's right. Wanted for the murder of six muggles." Bastian Cane eyed him over with curiosity. "How does that make you feel, Draco?"

"How does what make me feel?"

"He murdered six human beings. But they were _muggles_. Does that alleviate him from justice in _your_ eyes?"

Draco glanced down at his covered arm, pondering. "No. Murder is murder."

"Murder is murder. Yes. I quite agree."

"How did you capture him?"

"I have quite an ensemble of wizards at my disposal who share my feelings towards scum like him. And when you're above the law, you find it easier to nab the big fish."

"So why not turn him in?"

"Because, I needed someone to show the effects of the stone. Why not someone who deserves to have justice thrust upon him?" Bastian waved his hand over the man's face. With a quick jerk, Tollman awoke.

"Bloody 'ell!" he shouted, flailing wildly, but the two muscle men kept him in place. "What's the meanin' o' this!?"

"You'll forgive me if I skip right to the dark magic, yes? I really am on a tight schedule. _Imperio_." Frederick's face gave way to relaxation. " _Touch the stone,_ " Cane ordered.

Frederick Tollman nodded, his eyes glazed. "Touch the stone." Cane's lackeys released him, and he walked over towards the desk. His hand reached out to grasp the beautiful blue object. The closer he got, the brighter the stone grew. "Touch the stone…" Draco watched, half in horror, half in curiousness, as Tollman gripped the stone tight in his hand. Immediately, a pulse burst from it, sending a wave of hot magic through the air like lighting. Tollman screamed out in pain and collapsed to the floor. The stone fell from his hand and rolled onto the wooden slats at Cane's shoes.

"What… what the Hell?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows together, stepping back.

"Frederick Tollman no longer possesses magic," Cane replied, his thin lips drawing back in a grin. "Frightening, yes?"

"This is mental."

"This is the power of the Pandora stone. -Oh, don't give me that look, Draco Malfoy. What do you think was in that mythological jar from Zeus? Cake?" He chuckled. "It was said that all of the evils of the world were unleashed from Pandora's Box. What the Greeks failed to realize was that it had all stemmed from this beauty. -Pandora was _once a witch_. But with the power of this… it was all taken from her. Such glorious unknown magic, untapped. That's where you come in. - If you could find a way to strip down the magical components and separate them, it is very plausible that this stone could help you remove the one piece of magic that has been permanently bonded to you."

It was written all over Draco's face: intrigue. "My theories are just that- theories. They've never been tested…"

"And I'm sure the same thing was said about the wand before it's invention."

"If that thing has the power to strip magic, I want no part of it." He tried to convince himself, but it wasn't working. He could feel the pull from the stone -the allure of it all. "Besides, should I touch it…"

"Yes, should you touch it, you'd very well lose every bit of magic. Which is why I give you a gift." Bastian gestured to the floor; to Frederick. "The stone only affects magic around it. Someone who is stripped of magic will no longer feel the effects of the stone."

"You want me to use him?"

"I want you to use whatever means necessary to do your work."

"So you'd just… give me this stone? Freely? Of your own will?"

"Of course not. Everything comes with a price. I want you to synthesize this magic for me on a grander scale. I give this stone to you, you give me the means to protect muggles from filth like him."

"Why me? Why not someone else?"

"Simple. -I feel you're quite motivated to remove that Mark at all costs. And I have the motivation to protect muggles at all costs. As it stands, working with a former Death Eater is hardly on my list of things to do. But you're the only one I feel is capable of unlocking these secrets. And besides… we both know you're not one to follow the rules. Quid pro quos, yes? _I_ give you the means to live a normal life free of your mistakes, and _you_..." He looked at him expectantly.

"You want me to build you weapons."

"And Bingo was his name-o." Bastian Cane's dead eyes grew even darker. "What say you, Draco? Would you be interested in making a deal with the devil for your soul?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More answers to come. Please leave a review in the little box. It helps keep the self-doubt trolls at bay.  
> Love, A.


	11. Friendship

**I don't know where you're going  
** **But do you got room for one more troubled soul?  
** **I don't know where I'm going  
** **But I don't think I'm coming home and I said  
** **I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead  
** **This is the road to ruin  
** **And we're starting at the end**

**Alone Together -Fall Out Boy**

* * *

Hermione threw him from her mind at once, slamming it closed like a vice. "You." She glared, jerking away from him. "You created the Pandora Mine."

Draco sat coldly across from her, his face unreadable. He dared not move in fear of her wrath. She held so much of it in her eyes. "I might have had a hand in it. That doesn't mean it was used for its intended purpose."

"What does that even _mean_?" She felt her promise slip from her. How could she be understanding of someone who would create something so devastating? "You assured me that you weren't involved in anyone's death."

"Technically, I told you _not to my knowledge_. Remember when I told you I stopped reading the paper? -The Pandora Mine was never intended to kill, Hermione. I didn't make it for that purpose! Do you really think I'd do that?"

"I don't know what you're capable of anymore," she whispered, drawing her wand. Draco looked pain stricken. "But if you come anywhere near me right now, I know _exactly_ what I'm capable of."

"Why are you acting like this?" His voice grew frustrated. He ran his fingers through his blonde tresses, but did not take a step closer. "You said you'd be here on the other side. You _said_ that."

Yes, she had promised that… but, "That was before I knew you were responsible for Ronald's death."

Draco's eyebrows curved upwards, a mixture of confusion and insult written across them. "I'm not responsible for any deaths. Bastian Cane is. I _never_ created that box to explode. Its sole purpose was to drain magic from a mass group of individuals at once. _That's it_. Cane added the little details later. -I was supposed to make weapons that withdrew magic from their hosts. You think I'd do that just to blow people up? I'm insulted. -If I were going to hatch a devious plan, do you not think I would put a bit more flair into it? Explosions are messy and leave far too much evidence."

"Do you hear yourself right now? You sound like a serial killer."

"I sound exactly like what I am. A _Malfoy_. And a Malfoy has a code."

"Be a pompous curd at all times?"

"Don't get caught." His fists shook as he struggled to contain himself. She could tell it took everything in him to stay, to obey her. "And so far I've done a brilliant job of that. -If you truly think I'm at fault here, why haven't you left already and turned me in to your teacher of the year?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but closed it when it dawned on her that she had never actually any intention of leaving. She wanted him to feel terrible, yes, but the idea of throwing him under the train wouldn't satisfy her. Not without more answers. And because, deep down inside of her, she could already feel forgiveness preparing to strike. What _would_ she have done, if the tables were turned? Bastian Cane's offer had sounded promising. Perhaps she still would have turned it down, but then again she had never been put in the position Draco had been. Tainted in the eyes of society for a Mark that was never his choice, forced to wear the reminder day after day that his father's love was nothing compared to the love he had possessed for Pure blood tradition. He would sell his own son's soul to stay safe and in good sorts with Voldemort. And that had to have made an impression on such a young and vulnerable Draco, didn't it? -They both were branded, it was true, but only Draco's held the weight of a Father's betrayal.

"You want to blame me for the city last night, that's fine," Draco added. "But tell me something. How am I responsible for Weasley's death? That's why you're angry, isn't it?"

"Ron died investigating a lead," she said out loud, trying to from the pieces together. "They said it was an accident. That a cursed object went off in the vicinity. But that never set right with me. I've never known a cursed object to do what it did. And when I implored the Ministry to tell me what he was investigating, they told me that it was sealed away. I applied myself to be an Auror to get those files. To figure out exactly what happened so that I could put away the bastard that did this to him." She lowered her wand. "Before Ron passed, he said there were discrepancies in the Ministry that didn't make sense. Money that was transferred from vault to vault with covers. And when he was on the verge of discovering those secrets…"

" _Boom_?"

Hermione scowled. "Must you be so crude?"

"Look, just because Weasley died by the hands of an explosion it doesn't mean it was a Pandora Mine. They're _very_ rare, Hermione. I should know. I'm the only one capable of replicating them."

"And why is that?"

"Because I never wrote any of it down." He pressed his finger to his temple. "Insurance. It's how I was able to get out when I did. Cane isn't about to kill me with these secrets locked away."

"And where is Cane now?"

"How the Hell should I know? The moment I found out Tori was pregnant, I told him I was through."

"And he just let you leave?"

His face tensed, and he averted his gaze. "I might have burned down his entire warren in the process of getting my point across. And then told him that should he contact me, I'd go to the Ministry with everything."

"Oh, that's brilliant. Burn down an evil man's lair and hope he doesn't exact revenge! Smart, Draco."

"Hey, don't chastise me. -I did it to protect everyone from that psychotic arsehole!" His voice got louder the more he went on. "I destroyed everything. I took down his entire enterprise. If anything I'm a bloody hero!"

"Don't fool yourself into thinking that cleaning up your mistakes makes you a hero. You could have said no! Why on Earth would allow yourself to be used?"

"You don't think I don't know all of this?" He yanked up his left sleeve and thrust the Dark Mark out so that she had no choice but to stare at it. " _This_ is why! Because _every day_ I'm reminded of what poor choices have cost me!"

"You should have gone to the Ministry anyways!"

"I know!"

"You're an idiot!"

"I _know_ I am!"

His confession caught her off guard -so much so that a nervous laugh escaped her lips. "Do you?"

"Of course I do." His voice dimmed, and he lowered his arm. "I was a ridiculous post adolescent who thought the only way to make things better was to go the selfish route. I wasted years of my life thinking only of myself. And by the time I realized that I was capable of being loved without removing the Mark, the damage was already too great to repair what little bit of hope for my soul there was."

Guilt pinged at Hermione like a needle, deflating her anger.

Draco went on. "I don't expect my son or my ex-wife to forgive me for doing the things I've done. But the legacy I've left my son is a pile of proverbial rubble. I thought if I… if I became an Auror and brought Cane in the legal way, I might be able to repair the Malfoy name. Give him a future I never had."

"So… so you want to bring in Cane?"

"That's exactly what I want to do."

"And if he rats you out for your part?"

"At least I'll have a clear conscience on my head when I'm done."

"Oh…. Oh Draco." Her feet moved before her brain had time to stop her. She crossed the room and threw her arms around him, dropping her wand to the floor. Draco stood ridged, obviously stunned by her actions. Hermione felt her resolve slip completely. What if this were Ron? Or Harry? What if they had come to her, confessed in her the way Draco had? Would she have held them in contempt for the rest of their lives? No. She would have looked for the good -it's just who she was. Who she wanted to be. When Ron had been consumed by the force of a Horcrux, had she given up hope? No. Why should this be any different? Draco Malfoy had never been strictly evil -people's actions weren't just black and white, were they? There were shades of gray that made up a person's soul. Reasons for actions. Could she herself say she was free of sin?

" _Hermione,_ " he whispered, allowing his hands to slip around her. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

"You'd really get yourself thrown in Azkaban for the sake of making up for your actions?" she murmured into his chest. She could hear his heart beating wildly against his sternum.

"I'd do whatever it took to take down Cane. I'd just rather not go to Azkaban before I do. Sort of defeats the entire purpose."

"You prat." She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "You shouldn't have kissed me."

"I know I- wait, _what_?"

She tilted her head up to look at him. "You shouldn't have kissed me if you knew you weren't going to be around to pick up the pieces someday."

Bewilderment broke out across his face, covered up by a soft smirk. "And… you'd want me to pick up the pieces? Knowing what you know?"

She pulled her eyes away, pondering. Did she want something to happen between them? Was that really something that was plausible? She had never considered the possibility of thinking of anyone else in that way before… not even when Diggle flirted with her. He was handsome, yes, but he came on too strong, and… there was just something about him that she couldn't quite place. Something that told her that he wasn't the kind of person she'd like to pursue. Something that had held her back from allowing him to kiss her at the book store last night. But she had allowed Draco to pull her naked across him in a tub? Where was her mind lately?

"I think…" she began, "That I don't want to push you out of my life just yet." Her fingers skimmed over the muscles in his chest as she spoke. "Last night, you asked me if you were beyond forgiveness. -And… now I don't think it's my place to decide that. Or Astoria's. Or even for Scorpius. It's yours." Her hands crawled up to his cheeks, forcing him to tilt his face down to look at her. "I've known you for a long time. You put on such a good show, I forget that you're kind, underneath it all."

"Kind?" He sounded almost insulted.

"Yes. Whether you like it or not, deep down your heart has always been in the right place."

"I don't think you know me at all, then."

"When we were captured by your family, you didn't tell your family about Harry."

"Out of fear."

"When Crabbe meant to kills us in the Room of Requirement, you protected us."

"Out of guilt."

"Last night, you could have left that Mine for the Ministry to find. You could have let them discover it. You could have let more people die. But you didn't. You saved lives."

"Out of protection for my own secrets."

"No. Out of protection for your fellow man." Hermione stroked his cheek thoughtfully. "I don't need to forgive you, Draco. You need to forgive yourself."

"And… if you discovered that Weasley had been killed by one of my inventions?" he asked, taking time with every word.

"I… I don't know." She dropped her hand. "We haven't crossed that bridge yet."

He nodded, peeling her off of him and stepping back. "But we will. -Fuck sakes… what are we doing?" He turned away from her. "You're right. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Draco-"

"I might be the reason for your husband being in the ground instead of by your side right now.- I had no business kissing you. I had no business doing anything with you. Astoria was right. I am worthless as a human being."

"Surely she didn't say that to you."

"Surely she did.- You should go."

"Draco Malfoy, I am not going anywhere."

"Yes, Hermione. You are." He walked by her and stood in the doorway of the kitchen. "You're to go home and call upon Auror Diggle at once."

She crossed her arms. "Excuse me?"

"You're to ask him out on a date," he said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Why on Earth would I want to go on a date with Auror Diggle?"

"Because he fancies you. Because you fancy him -not as much as you fancy me, but really, that's hardly a fair comparison." He smirked, his face lighting up like Christmas lights. "You're going to take him far, far away from the Ministry. You're going to do it, because while you are enticing Diggle with that  
sensational rack, I'm going to break into his office and steal Weasley's files for you."

"You would do that?"

"For the sake of… whatever this is between us… yes."

"Friendship, Draco. It's called friendship."

"Yeah. That word just doesn't feel right coming from me." He dismissed it with a wave of the hand. "But if I ever want to be able to think about picking up those pieces, as you so put it, I have to make this right. -And besides, if Diggle cared about you, he wouldn't have put you in this situation to begin with. You deserve answers. And I'm going to get them for you."

Hermione didn't know what to say. If he didn't intend to break the law on her behalf, she might call it chivalrous. As it were, it was still damn decent of him. "Alright. But if you do... you'll need to break into Harry's desk as well. Any cases Ron had been working on would have gone to him. Maybe he knew about Cane. We can't be sure until we take a look for ourselves."

Draco grinned. "You're encouraging me to steal from Potter?"

"To make omelets… you have to crack a few eggs, yes?" She felt relieved. For nearly a year, she had been lost in doubts and questions. And with Draco's help, she had a plan to get answers. "This means a lot to me, Draco."

"Yes, yes. We get it. I'm amazing. -Do me one favor while you're out?"

"Hmm?"

"Try not to let Diggle into your pants."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." She turned her back to him, slowly bending over to retrieve her wand. When she arose, she stalked her away up to him and placed her hands delicately behind her back. "I'll be wearing a skirt."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Look who decided to grow a sense of humor."

"I've always had one. It's just been a bar above your intelligibility."

"Oh, you mean like my grades in Divination?"

It was Hermione's turn to glower. "That was never a class. That was a joke."

"One that you couldn't pass."

"How do you even _remember_ something like that?"

"I remember any class that I did better in than you."

"Yes, well, I still had Charms, Ancient Runes, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Transfiguration-"

"Hermione? Shut up." Draco reached out and placed a single finger to her lips. "No one cares." He began to chuckle as he withdrew his finger.

"What's… what's so funny?"

"Nothing. I just… I share my darkest secret with you, and here you are babbling on about how well you excelled at Hogwarts. Only you could look past someone's darkness enough to go right to the subject of education."

"Yes, well, education is very important," she mumbled, feeling her cheeks burn. She tucked her wand within her back pocket and pulled some fallen hair back behind her ear. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely." He snaked a hand to the back of her neck and rubbed her spine. "Never change, Hermione."

"I'll do my best not to," she whispered. A part of her wished he would forget himself again and kiss her, but he either had no desire to or he had restrained himself, because he removed his hand and slipped it in his pocket.

"You're welcome to stay here and rest, if you'd like," he offered. "But I understand if you'd like to return home."

"I… I think that would be best. For now."

"I'd like to share some more memories with you in the future, if you're up for it. It's cathartic."

"Alright."

"Would you like to use the floo?"

"Yes. That sounds fine."

He offered out his arm, probably a remnant of his Malfoy upbringing. Hermione had never seen him be as courtly as he had been in the last twenty-four hours. But she took his arm all the same and allowed him to lead her into one of the massive dens of the Manor, where a grand fireplace took the attention of the room. He plucked the bag of floo poweder off of the mantle, and she grabbed up a hand full.

"When you set up your date with Diggle, write me. I'll make sure to make my evening free." He gave a tiny wink. "And… Scorpius will be here Wednesday, if you'd… like to come over. To see him, of course."

Hermione was overjoyed by the thought. "That would be lovely, Draco. Thank you. After training?"

"Sounds like a—a plan." Had he almost said date? No. He wouldn't have.

"Right." She smiled warmly. "I'll see you Monday, then."

"Monday it is."

Hermione stepped into the fireplace and held out her hand to drop the powder. "Bye…"

"Goodbye, Hermione."

As she released the powder and spoke her address to take her home, she caught one last glimpse of him. He had turned to leave, but across his face was a very handsome smile. She didn't think she had ever seen him smile so freely before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, so much plot! I really enjoy writing this. Please let me know your thoughts! Don't fret- we'll get into more of Draco's past as we go. I really hope this story is one that everyone can find something of themselves in. If you have time, please drop a comment or question. I'll be glad to answer them.  
> Love every single one of you.  
> A.


	12. The Lion, The Devil, & The Spider

**The lion sits in his den and waits for the lady to show her face**   
**So he can pounce**   
**Ohh, what a disgrace, just so he can get a taste of her sweet embrace**   
**The devil hides in the sun and waits for a girl to call his number one**   
**And while it's daylight they'll have some fun**   
**But trust me baby when you need him he's gone**   
**The spider spawns a web of lies**   
**If this woman aint careful she'll be food in his eyes**

**And even if you learn to struggle away**   
**Doesn't mean you wont get caught again**   
**"The Lion, The Devil, & The Spider" by Kate Nash**

* * *

Monday morning, Hermione awoke early by the surprise pecking of Archimedes at her window. In his talon was a neatly packaged brown box. When she opened it, she found a scone and a note inside.

_'Morning, Granger. See you soon. D.M.'_

She caught herself smiling as she tossed the covers off of her and began to nibble the scone. By the time she arrived back from her kitchen with food for Archimedes, she was grinning from ear to ear. It was just a scone, but it was something, wasn't it? A gesture of kindness. Of friendship.

Her doorbell rang.

Surely it couldn't be…? She dashed to the hallway mirror and checked herself. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was particularly disheveled. It rang again, and she admonished herself for thinking so much on her looks. She took to the door and opened it, expecting to see Draco, but instead found the soft, green eyes of Harry. He looked as if he hadn't slept a wink.

"Hey, Hermione." He grinned. "Mind if I come in?"

"Harry. Oh, of course not." She opened the door wider to let him through, and followed his lead to sit on the sofa. She couldn't have had a better opportunity drop into her lap. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really, but thanks." He closed his eyes and yawned. "I've been doing double duties while we repair the streets of Diagon Alley. It's been pretty taxing."

"You could always ask the trainees to help."

"I have."

"But I wasn't-"

"You suffered a mild concussion and hearing loss, Hermione. You think I'm going to send you out so soon?"

"You need to stop protecting me," she scolded him. "I'm capable of taking care of myself." It had been like this ever since Ron passed. Anytime Hermione stubbed her toe or went both ways without crossing the street, Harry had been right there to become the overprotective brother figure. It had all gotten so overwhelming, she had pulled away once she had applied herself as an Auror. She hadn't want to stop being friends -but she didn't want to be treated like a handicap either. The loss of Ron had truly caused a rift between her and Harry.

"I know." He nodded, opening his eyes to look apologetically at her. "I guess… after losing Ron, you being an Auror has been hard for me to process. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you too."

"You're not going to lose me, Harry." Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "So what brings you over?"

"Diggle and I've been talking. He thinks you're not telling us the whole truth about Friday evening, and quite frankly I'm starting to believe him. Dean's not a lair, and he wasn't mistaken when he said Malfoy ran through the gate first. Did you really think he'd be the only witness?"

Hermione bit down on her tongue, scolding herself. She knew it had been too easy. "I want to tell you, Harry, I really do." She sighed. "It's just… not my place to say anything."

"What's going on, Mione?"

What could she tell him? Without giving away Malfoy's secrets? "Have you heard of a wizard named Bastian Cane?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How do you know about him?"

Hermione's heart began to race. "So you have?"

"There's been whispers that a man by the name of Cane has been kidnapping wanted wizards. Just whispers, though. So far we haven't even been able to ascertain an ID. The man is a figurative ghost. No one under Ministry records has ever gone by that name.-What does he have to do with-"

"I have it on good authority that Bastian Cane was behind the Diagon Alley attack Friday night."

Harry's back stiffened. "Whose authority?"

"…I can't tell you."

"Hermione, that's hardly anything to go off of. I can't follow leads on whims-"

"And I think," she said, ignoring him, "That he's behind the death of Ron as well."

He gave a heavy sigh. There was pain etched in his eyes. Oh, boy, here it came again… "We've been over this. Ron's death was an accident." So stubborn.

"But what if it weren't? If you'd just let me take a look at the files…"

"No." He sat up straight, his voice suddenly very serious. "Why do you want to open up old wounds, Hermione? Why can't you just accept Ron died the way he did? Ginny has, I have, his entire family has -but you still cling to this notion like it's a life raft-"

" _Harry Potter,_ " Hermione scolded him. "When I get a feeling in my stomach, I follow it. You _used_ to do the same. Has being behind a desk dampened your instincts?"

Harry stood up. His face was unreadable. Long hours at the Ministry and years of being an Auror had given him this ability. She used to could read it so well… "Write a formal report, then. If you really think that Bastian Cane had anything to do with this, give me your source. I have to follow protocol, Hermione. You _know_ I do. This isn't when we were kids -I can't bend the rules for you all the time."

Hermione frowned. "This isn't you. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. I've looked over Ron's case a hundred times. Do you really think that I'd let a _single_ detail slip through my fingers? He was my _best friend_. -I'll listen to you about Cane. But I'm sorry, Hermione. You need to let Ron go."

"Harry…"

He walked over to the door and jerked it open. With a heavy slam, he left. Hermione's face was one of sheer confusion. Why would Harry act this way? It wasn't like him at all. She understood he was stressed -being head of the Auror Division must have been a very stressful job indeed. But his words _… You need to let Ron go._ What would ever possess him to be so heartless?

She felt loads better about her plan with Draco. "Fine, Harry," she whispered. "If you won't tell me what's going on, I'll be glad to take matters into my own hands."

* * *

Draco was already seated at their assigned desk when Hermione arrived. It surprised her- normally, he'd slip in right before class would start. When he noticed her, he cracked a sly smile and patted the seat next to him. "Hermione."

"Draco." She nodded, taking her seat. She looked around the room to the empty chairs, hear heart sinking when she came to Roman Romero's. What would happen to Dean now that his partner was gone? Dean and Roman had grown close -she could only imagine what he was going through. She'd be sure to talk to him about it after training. "I received your owl this morning. -Thank you."

"You're quite welcome." Draco glanced around the room as well, then whispered, "Right. Well, I've taken the time to stroll through the Auror Division this morning. Said I was taking inventory of where I'd want my desk."

"I'm sure everyone believed the arrogance," she chided. He ignored it.

"We've got this in the bag, Granger. All you need to do is set the bait. Have you?"

"Not yet."

"Well get on that. Wear a tight shirt- put on some red lipstick. You have a job to do."

"Is that what you think makes a woman attractive? Skimp and makeup?"

"Of course not. But it doesn't _hurt_."

The door opened, and trainee hopeful Simon Simmons barreled through. His hair was a brilliant shade of magenta -Hermione couldn't help but laugh under her breath. She heard Draco snigger right along with her.

"You think that's funny, Malfoy?" Simmons grumbled, throwing his book bag on the desk and thumping his thick body to them until he hovered just above Draco. "Cast the counter-jinx. Now."

"Simmons, if you're incapable of removing a simple coloring jinx, I hardly doubt you'll make much of an Auror at all," Draco quipped, raising an eyebrow.

" _Now_ , Malfoy."

"Perhaps if you asked politely," Hermione retorted, "I'm sure Draco would be glad to remove the jinx."

"And who asked for your opinion? You stupid, little-"

"-I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you," Draco interrupted him. "Been there. Done that."

"I don't have all bloody day! Remove the stupid jinx!"

"Well, if you won't, I will." Hermione made to stand, but Simmons grabbed her shoulder and shoved her back down.

"Get your grimy paw off of her." Draco jumped up from his chair, squaring Simmons up.

"S'just a woman." Simmons shrugged indifferently. "Are we s'posed to be impressed?"

That was it. She had heard the jostles and whispers in the halls. It had been ages since a woman applied for an Auror position after the War, she knew, but this was ridiculous. -It was Hermione's turn to jump in. She withdrew her wand as if she were holding a dagger and pointed it directly at the arrogant toe-rag. "When I was in school, one of the bravest Aurors I've ever met gave their life in the Battle of Hogwarts. Her name was Nymphadora Tonks. That's right, a _woman_ Auror. Shall I make you a list of some of the bravest women Aurors in History? Alice Longbottom. The mother of your former Herbology teacher, Neville Longbottom. Venusia Crickerly, who later went on to become Minister of Magic in 1903. Myself, who is going to best you in every way possible and will wipe that arrogant smirk right off of your face if you don't learn to show some respect for the women who gave their lives to the cause!" She pressed the tip of her wand to his nose. "And just because other women my age would rather be married with families, does _not give you the right_ to downsize my accomplishments."

Other trainees began to filter in, stopping to see the spectacle. Simmons looked as if he were going to be eaten alive by cockroaches as Auror Diggle pushed through the crowd. "I was wondering when she would finally break." He swept his eyes over the students and then stared directly at Hermione. "Well, Miss Granger. What will you do?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and she withdrew her wand immediately. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not sure what came over me."

"I do. It's called pride." Diggle looked to Simmons. "Take a seat, Auror Simmons, if you plan to keep your nose intact. I don't think I'd dare stand in the way of a witch at war. _\- Everyone_ take a seat, in fact. We have a lot to discuss." Diggle approached his desk as Auror after Auror took their seats. Hermione noticed that Dean wasn't in attendance.

"Sir?" She raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Where is Auror Thomas?"

"He's been excused for the day. He suffered some internal bruising in wake of the events at the Leaky Cauldron. And with the loss of Auror Romero…" The room of wizards seemed to keen silently at the loss, "I thought it prudent to let him rest. Speaking of the Leaky," He tossed his briefcase on the table, "Obviously, the events of this weekend weigh heavily on everyone's minds this morning. But I implore you -do not let these recent events turn your perceptions. This is what being an Auror is all about. Know that we will find the culprits of these fiendish attacks and bring them to justice. If you have any doubts about how you stomach the events at Diagon Alley, you may resign and leave. -Good God, Simmons. What _have_ you done to your hair?"

* * *

"Greg, might I have a moment?" Hermione asked after the class had spilled out for the day.

"Of course, Hermione." Auror Diggle sat down his quill. "How are you feeling? I came back to check on you in the morning, but you were already gone."

"I was discharged. -Auror Malfoy took me home." It was a small lie, but considering that telling Greg that she had spent the majority of the following morning kissing and/or confiding in Draco Malfoy might not go over well, she thought it might be best.

"That was… rather kind of him. How are things going in that department?"

"That's what I want to talk to you about." She drew her leg up atop the table and sat precariously on top of Diggle's desk. It had been a long time since Hermione had attempted to appear sexy -she felt as if she looked like a cat attempting to stretch. Far from fetching, but Diggle didn't seem to mind. "See, sir, I've gotten to know Auror Malfoy very well, and I don't view him as a threat to the Ministry."

"Is that so?" Diggle raised a handsome eyebrow.

"Perhaps… we could discuss it… over dinner sometime?"

Greg's full lips cracked a grin. "Am I reading too much into this, or are you asking me out on a date?" The word date made Hermione's heart stammer. She hadn't gone on a date in years. And she didn't know how she felt about Greg Diggle being her first one -especially since she was doing it to keep him occupied. What would he expect to do? Hold hands? Kiss? What if he tasted like soup or garlic or _not like Draco_? She inwardly reprimanded herself. _Focus, Hermione_.

"I feel as though if we call it that, it breaks Ministry polices. Doesn't it?"

"There's no rule that says we aren't allowed to be out together outside of work."

"Then… I suppose it is a date."

Diggle stood up from his seat and leaned forward on the table, eager. "Wonderful. Unfortunately, I have some business to attend to this weekend, but perhaps the next?"

"Next weekend would be great." She attempted her best smile. Her mind racing, she added, "Maybe would could ask Ginny and Harry if they'd like to join us. A double date!" She clapped her hands for show, though to be honest she was very pleased with herself. This way she could kill two birds with one stone; guarantee Harry and Greg out of the office, and not be completely alone on her first date. At least she could feel relief that he wouldn't get too handsy.

Diggle's face dropped. "Yes, I suppose we could invite them as well. The more the merrier." Clearly, it wasn't. But Hermione wasn't about to take the hint.

"I'm so glad you see it that way. Thank you, Greg." She picked herself up off of his table, grabbed up her book bag, and waved at him as she left. "See you tomorrow!"

When she came round the corner of the hall, she found Draco leaned up against a broom closet door, his arms crossed. "Well? Did you give him a good show?"

"I hate playing the flirty female. It truly degrades my abilities as a witch when I have to put on."

"I'm sure you didn't have to put on much. We both know you like him."

"Do we?"

"I was in your mind, remember?"

She nibbled on her lower lip. "Yes. I quite remember. -So why are you skulking around the Ministry hall after hours? Simply to see how my date preparations were? I could have owled you."

"I know." He smirked. "Just wanted to see your face when you said it. What _will_ you wear? A dress? A low plunging neckline? I mean, you hardly have the goods for that, but I suppose a few enhancement spells…"

Hermione slammed her book bag into his stomach, silencing him. "What I wear will be between Diggle and myself. It isn't your business."

"I'm just saying -I've seen you naked. I would know how you should dress in order to accent your best features."

She couldn't tell if he was being serious or simply toying with her. "Yes, well, I have seen myself naked as well. I think I have this."

"I think you haven't. Your idea of proper clothes include wooly socks and Mary-Janes."

"Is this what it means to be friends with you? Scrutiny? Even now?"

"Always."

She started on her way to the Grand Hall Entrances, and he followed her. "I assure you. I know exactly what to wear."

"If you say so…"

They walked together in silence for a time. Hermione spoke first. "Why are you here? Really? Shouldn't you be at home, brooding?"

"…Astoria is retrieving the last of her things. I thought it best if I wasn't home for that."

"What about Scorpius? Wouldn't you want to see him?"

"Of course." He scowled. "But as per our custody agreement, it isn't my time with him."

"Are you nervous?" She stopped on her heels, turning to him. "To do it on your own?"

"What? Take care of my son? No. -Astoria's been leaving him alone with me most nights, since I work during the day."

"When do you find time to sleep?"

"When I'm dead."

"And what about when you go to work? What happens to Scorpius then?"

"You're awfully interested in my personal life all of a sudden." He cocked an eyebrow, watching her as she waited expectantly. "I've hired a caretaker for the time I work."

Hermione smiled softly, an idea forming. "Do you think it would be possible… when you have him, if I watched him a few hours in the evening? So you could rest, of course."

"You just want the opportunity to steal my son."

"Perhaps."

He smirked down towards her. "If I get to pick out your outfit for your date."

"Why are you so eager to dress me up?"

"Because, my dear Granger, I have no social life anymore and getting the opportunity to dress you up in something that would make you feel uncomfortable pleases me."

"Ever the Slytherin-alumni, aren't you?"

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

No, she smiled to herself, she really wouldn't. This new alliance with him was… exciting. It wasn't just that it took the edge off of the heavy. Something about getting to know a softer side of Draco did things to her insides. Sometimes it mashed them up, sometimes it made them jump, but they still sparked to life when she caught him laughing without calculation or lighting up a room with his smile. He took up a space in her heart that had been empty for nearly a year -someone she could be herself around, warts and all, and not be judged for it. Someone who didn't scowl at her every time she voiced her opinions.

"Never change, Draco," she whispered, setting her head on his shoulder.

"Only evolve," he agreed.

In the wake of so much death and destruction, two magical folk found solace in each other. And wasn't that, in itself, magical?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. I hope this cleared up some confusion that's been mucking up the story. I apologize for not making more clear about Harry's opinions in this. (But that's why reviews are so important -to grow and evolve as a writer. Thank you all so much for helping me along.)
> 
> If you're thinking Harry has been acting OOC, you're right. He is. Plot, dearies. SO much plot.
> 
> Love, A.


	13. Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one of my favorite chapters

**_C'mon, c'mon, with everything falling down around me_ **

**_I'd like to believe in all the possibilities_ **

**_Try not to mistake what you have with what you hate_ **

**_It could leave, it could leave, come the morning_ **

**_Celebrate the night_ **

**_It's the fall before the climb_ **

**_Shall we sing, shall we sing, 'til the morning_ **

**_If I fall forward, you fall flat_ **

**_And if the sun should lift me up_ **

**_Would you come back? C'mon!_ **

**"C'mon" by Panic! At The Disco & Fun**

* * *

"What is that?"

"It's a dress."

"Put it back."

"Why?"

"I'm not going to wear that. Pick out something else."

"I'm in charge of what you're wearing. I say put it on."

"And I say if you put that strip of frail clothing anywhere near my body I will make sure you'll never be able to reproduce anymore children ever again. Isn't that right, Scorpius?" Hermione pulled Scorpius up to her face and kissed his cheek.

"Give me the baby. Go try on the dress."

"Make me."

"Don't tempt me to."

* * *

"Pick up your feet!" Diggle shouted, leading his trainees down through the trails. "This is the forbidden forest! This is a cake walk compared to what's in the outside world!"

"Just a lovely stroll through a spider, centaur, and werewolves infested forest. What could possibly go wrong?" Draco muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Auror Malfoy?" Diggle called back. He purposely slowed down to let the others past, and cushioned himself between Hermione and Draco, keeping perfect pace with them. "Have something you want to add?"

"No, sir."

"Right. Keep up then."

He took off to take the lead again.

"Prick…"

"He's just trying to get under your skin. Don't let him." She talked in a hushed voice to avoid being overheard.

"And how about you quit defending him." Draco hopped over a log, keeping his jog brisk. Hermione had to hurdle herself to make the same leap (smaller legs).

"I'm not defending him."

"Seems like it."

"I'm not. I just don't think you need to instigate anything with him right now. Not with all that's going on."

"Why does the bloody bastard have it out for me so bad?"

"Why do you think?" Hermione nudged down to his arm. "Greg doesn't like the idea of an Auror being a former Death Eater. He's got a load of bias towards you."

"He really should piss off. -Tell me something. What does your date with him mean to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you seem awfully chummy with him at times. And other times I think you despise him." Draco slowed his pacing so she could keep up. "So which is it?"

"If you're asking me if Greg is my type…" She jostled him in the shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "I've come to the firm conclusion he's nothing but a pretty face."

Draco smirked.

* * *

"What about this dress?"

"Are you trying to scream Mother Superior?"

"I think it's very fetching."

"Yeah? So go _fetch_ something else. -In purple. Scorpius really likes that color on you."

"Does he?"

"Are you questioning my ability to non-verbally communicate with my son?"

She rolled her eyes. "I think he likes blue, myself."

"Blue may be his favorite color, but you'd look much better in purple… at least, that's what _he_ thinks."

"We should all be so honored to be privy to your baby-linguistics."

"I quite agree."

* * *

"A double date?" asked Ginny as she and Hermione purchased movie tickets. "That sounds great, Hermione, but are you sure you want to be around Harry? I heard you and him had a bit of a row."

"I wouldn't exactly call it a row," Hermione replied, holding the door open for her pregnant friend. "He hasn't been himself lately, has he?"

"No." Ginny shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Losing Ron was a big blow to all of us." She patted her stomach. "I know Ron would have loved to have been here for this. Remember how his eyes lit up when James was born?" Hermione nodded. "I think Harry's just scared, Hermione. I'll have a talk with him." She stalked up to the concession counter and ordered two hot dogs, nachos, and a large soda. "What will you be having, Hermione?"

"Oh. Nothing." She was amazed that her best friend would want to put away that much food. The term 'eating for two', she read, was really just the body's way of getting the nutritional value it needed in order to sustain two lives. If one took in the proper amount of vitamins a day, they'd have no excuse to over eat. But she would never say that to Ginny. Her Bat-Bogey hex was one to be reckoned with.

"To be honest with you, Herms, I'm surprised you'd want to go out with a wizard like Diggle. Here, hold these." She shoved the two hotdogs into each of Hermione's hands.

"Harry seems to like him…" Hermione said quietly, trying to persuade her friend.

"Yes. A bit too much if you ask me. He's clung to Greg like an oar ever since Ron's passing. I'd understand it if Greg was a bit more like Ron, but as it were…"

"As it were?"

"He's calculating." Ginny sipped on her soda as the two headed off towards the theatre. "Oh, he's charming, don't get me wrong. And he's polite. But I've never seen Greg Diggle do something without already having planned out his next five moves."

"He seems a bit aloof to me."

"Aloof?" Ginny laughed. "I've known Greg Diggle for years, Hermione. If there's one thing I can say about him, it's that he isn't aloof at all. Perhaps he's just playing the part to charm you? According to Harry, he's quite taken with you."

"Of that I'm thoroughly convinced," Hermione agreed.

"But you don't seem as keen to it as him," Ginny observed. "When we set you up on that little ambush, you didn't really enjoy the idea of leaving with him. I'm sorry we put you in that situation."

"Oh. No. Not at all." She tried her best to be convincing. "It just caught me off guard is all."

"Right. -So how is Auror training? I can't believe you were right outside the Leaky on Friday. What on Earth were you doing there?"

It was Hermione's turn to confide in her best friend a bit. "You remember Draco Malfoy? From our school years?"

"It's hard to forget a wizard like him."

"He's my partner now. In training."

"Harry's told me."

"He's been going through a bit of a tight spot, and I left Greg on Friday to calm him down from a drunken abashment of the muggle community."

"Well he sounds quite charming, doesn't he?" mused Ginny sarcastically. The only thing was… Hermione couldn't help but think he _was_ a bit charming.

"He's not all that bad, really." Hermione led them up the stairs and they found themselves a corner pocket up top. "He's just been going through a rough time with personal things. He's actually quite funny. And he's got a son that's simply adorable."

"Mhmm." Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Didn't I read in the paper that he's gone and divorced Astoria Greengrass?"

"She divorced him. But yes. That's true."

"Interesting." Ginny took a hotdog from Hermione and began to chew, pensive. "Tell me more about him."

"About Draco?"

"Yes."

"Well… let's see. His son's name is Scorpius. He's got the same eyes as Draco. And he's a good father. I never thought I'd see the day when a Malfoy was kind, but when he's around his son, he's nothing but. -And he has a sense of humor. A bit cheeky and formidable…"

"And he's an ex Death Eater," her friend added.

"Yes… there's that too."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"No more than it bothers me that we so freely judge him based off his past mistakes. No more than it bothers me to think that Severus Snape was also a Death Eater. And look what he did for Harry."

"So, you think there's some good in him?"

"I think that no one is simply good or evil. And I _most certainly_ see good him."

"Hermione." Ginny grabbed up her other hotdog. "Don't go out with Diggle."

"What? Why not?"

"Because it sounds to me like your heart is already spoken for."

Hermione blushed a violent shade of red and meant to correct her friend, but the credits had already started, and besides- could she really correct something when it wasn't entirely false?

* * *

"That's the one."

"What? It quite literally has no back to it."

"Yes."

"Where is the back, Draco?" She glanced back at the changing mirror in horror. "It just barely covers my-"

" _Ass_ et?"

"This isn't the one."

"Scorpius seems to like it."

"Isn't it odd how Scorpius seems to approve of the same ones you do? Every single time?"

"I cannot help it if the child has superb taste."

"What about this one?" Hermione held up a small little thing -purple with gold trim. "This one isn't so bad…"

"You tried that one already. You said you hated it."

"Well, compared to all of the others, this one just might be the best one you've picked out thus far."

"You're only saying that because it shows the least amount of skin."

"Precisely." She glanced at the price tag. "NOPE. Never mind."

"What?"

"I could never justify myself paying that much for a dress I'm going to wear once."

"So wear it to work."

"You're a real laugh, you know that?"

"I'm not letting you leave here without that dress." He plucked it from her. "Or this one." He picked the price tag off of the one she was wearing.

"Draco _Malfoy_!"

"Hermione _Granger_!" he mocked her, sticking out his tongue. "Call it an investment on my part."

"An investment of what?"

"Of our plans." He put the price tags in the cup holder of the infant stroller and strolled back up to her. He turned her around to look in the mirror at the red chiffon dress that synched just over the curve of her stomach. "You really do look fetching in this dress, Hermione."

"Now you're just saying that to convince me to let you buy it."

"Maybe." He slipped his fingers over her shoulder and gripped tight. "Or maybe I'm sincere. You'll never know." He gave her a sly wink in the mirror before releasing her. "I'm going to purchase the dresses. See you up front."

* * *

"What shall we do while Daddy's asleep?" Hermione asked the tiny Scorpius as he tugged on a big, thick curl of her hair that dangled in his face. "Shall we play a prank on him?" Scorpius in tow, she crept up to Draco's bedroom door and unlocked it with her wand. "Quietly, now, Scorp. Or he'll wake up. Accio underwear."

* * *

"Granger!" Draco shouted from the top of the staircase. "Granger, where the HELL are all of my undergarments!? I know it was you!"

Hermione, busy bobbing Scorpius up and down on her knee, called up to him, "They seemed to have gotten a bit wet. Have you checked the freezer, Malfoy?"

* * *

Draco watched her as she snoozed softly on the divan, Scorpius tucked neatly under her arm closest to the cushions. It had been nice getting a bit of rest each night instead of the constant 'parent slumber' that consisted of waking up every twenty minutes in fear that the baby had suddenly cried. It had been even nicer when she had let him sleep longer than agreed. This was the third night he had discovered her sleeping soundly on the sofa. He didn't want to wake her. Quietly, he untucked the infant from her arms, took him to his room, and returned to grab up a blanket from the back of the couch to cover her. As the thick material draped over her arms, she stirred, opening her eyes.

"Hmm… oh… when did I fall asleep?" she asked groggily.

"No clue." He smirked. "You're more than welcome to stay if you'd like."

"I…" She yawned. "Couldn't possibly."

"Nonsense." He bundled the covers tighter around her. "It's nearly two in the morning. Rest."

"Is it really?" She did that thing where she chewed on her bottom lip. It made his stomach tingle. "I suppose staying one night wouldn't hurt."

Here in the early morning darkness, he felt brave. "Well, you're not going to sleep on a sofa, of all things. What kind of Malfoy would I be?"

"The one I've known for years…" she muttered, eyes closing.

"Well, I don't want to be him." He scooped her up in his arms without asking her. "Come on. You're coming to bed."

Slowly, she peeled an eye open at him. "Am I?"

"Yes." He noted how she didn't even attempt to argue with him as he carried her up the stairs. In fact, she snuggled into his chest as he did. By the time he made it to the bedroom, she was asleep again. He tucked her in to his bed, turned off the lights so that the ceiling lit up with the stars he loved to gaze at, and retreated to the chase lounge. Nervousness racked his core. He really hadn't anticipated her allowing him to get this far. Now, as he watched her chest rise up and down as she slept, he wondered what to do with himself. Should he stay here, on the lounge, and be satisfied with the mere fact she was in his bed willingly? Should he gather his courage and slide into bed next to her? What would she say when she awoke? Would she be shocked? Horrified? Content?

Since when was he a coward when it came to women? _Since always_ , he thought miserably.

Well, not tonight.

He arose from the chase lounge, crossed the bedroom, and pulled back the covers. Carefully, he crawled into bed beside her, wary to get too close. That's when she rolled over and reached out in her sleep, pulling herself closer to him. His heart stammered in his throat. Oh Merlin, her being this close was doing errant things to his body; her perfume was intoxicating. She smelled like roses and vanilla and books and comfort and trust and friendship. Delicately, he pulled her into his arms, and she snuggled into his chest.

"Stupid Granger…" he muttered to her, knowing she wouldn't hear. "Look what you've gone and done to me."

"Stupid Malfoy…" she whispered, startling him. He glanced down and saw her pry one eye open. "Did you really think I was asleep?"

He laughed, partially out of shock and partially out of the humor of her deceit. "I had hoped you were."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"Well, I should say you should be."

She gave a lopsided smile. "Go to sleep, Draco."

"It's difficult to find the will to when…"

"When?"

He decided to go the daring, humorous route. "When the person you're sleeping next to is someone you've seen nude but haven't had the pleasure of being intimate with. Gets the mind thinking, you know."

"Mmh." She nodded, closing her eyes. "Well, keep thinking, I suppose. Because it's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

He felt her press up closer to him. "Because I haven't begged yet."

They both burst out laughing in the darkness. It was refreshing -her quick humor had alleviated any tension that Draco had felt before. Why had this been so difficult? He placed his hand on the small of her back and rubbed. "No. You haven't done that. _Yet_."

"G'nite, Draco."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a thought while writing today. Everyone sees a book differently. The scenery. The people. Everyone is just a bit different when they think of characters. Isn't it amazing that we can all read the same story and see it differently, based on our perspectives? Beautiful.
> 
> The greatest sadness I will ever experience is knowing that I will never be around to read every story in existence. Out of all the stories there are to read, thank you for taking the time to experience mine.  
> Will update soon.  
> A.


	14. A Date With Diggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I have given you a story worth while. I'm so happy for every follow, every favorite, and every review. I want to be a professional writer in the future, and this is wonderful practice!
> 
> So many people from all over the world, coming to join in Dramione love. It fills my heart with joy that I'm not the only one that ships them so hard.

**Have you got colour in your cheeks?**   
**Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift**   
**The type that sticks around like something in your teeth?**   
**Are there some aces up your sleeve?**   
**Have you no idea that you're in deep?**   
**I dreamt about you nearly every night this week**

**"Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys**

* * *

The day of the infamous 'Devious-Diggle-Date', as Draco liked to word it, was finally upon her. Ginny had managed to smooth things over with Harry as best she could, to Hermione's relief. She didn't want to sit angry across from the table with Harry all evening. Especially when the guilt of stealing from him already weighted her stomach. She thought about coming clean half a dozen times, but Draco had discouraged her at every opportunity. "Think of it as a lesson. If you crack, you fail. And we both know how much you detest failing."

And yes, she did very much. But this wasn't a tawdry grade. This was her relationship with Harry on the line, if he were to ever find out she would go behind his back like this. They were already on rocky waters, and she planned to rock the boat even more. She just hoped when it all was done it wouldn't tip over.

"I feel like a teenage girl," she muttered to herself as he tried her best to apply mascara. She gave up about half way through the process and scrubbed her face clean. If Greg couldn't handle her at her most natural, he most certainly didn't deserve to go on a date with her. She was already putting on a mask, about to play the flirtatious woman of Greg Diggle's dreams. Why should she attempt to wear another? She picked the purple satin dress off of its hanger and glared at it. "You are the bane of my existence."

"I thought I was?" said a cool voice from the side. Draco stood at the doorway, arms folded across his chest, that infamous smirk playing handsomely across his face.

"I regret ever giving you access to my floo," she mumbled.

"What are you planning on doing with your hair?"

"I've already done it."

"What?" He tisked. "No. That will never do. You look like your normal self."

"And what's wrong with my normal self?"

"Nothing -but if you really want to sell this to Diggle, you're going to have to play the part. How did you dress for your first date with Weasley?"

"Like I always would. Ron wasn't as shallow as to care about my physical appearance. We can't all be so vain."

"Vanity isn't all terrible. -It usually gets me a free cup of tea anywhere I go."

"That's just British people being British. That has nothing to do with your looks." She ran her eyes over the material of the dress. "You really shouldn't have spent your money on this."

He rolled his eyes. "Put on the dress. I'll be outside this door when you're done. Unless you'd like help…?" A high heel came flying through the air and struck the wall directly next to his head. "Right. Outside then."

As Draco closed the door, Hermione felt a wave of nervousness sweep over her. It had been so very long since she was conflicted about her feelings towards anyone- and her feelings for Malfoy were getting a bit too much for her to control. She wasn't a silly teenage girl -she had never really been one- so why was she fretting over what he would think of her in the strapless evening party dress with gold embroidery? It was just a dress… _suck it up_.

* * *

Seated on the blue and green stripped recliner in Hermione's living room, Draco had never felt so conflicted. He was excited to get down to business- breaking and entering was one of his fortes, if he were being completely honest with himself. There wasn't a Hogwarts broom closet or potion's cabinet he hadn't been able to master, nor a lock in his father's many hidden rooms he couldn't pick when he was a child. He was confident in his abilities this evening.

So why was he so anxious?

Diggle. That's why. Diggle was getting exactly what he wanted through the entirety of his flirting with the brightest witch of the generation. He had to continuously remind himself that this was his idea in the first place. But as the clock ticked by minute by minute, his resolve wavered. He wasn't the jealous type. It wasn't his style. When something was his, he was possessive, yes, but he never felt the need to unceasingly look behind every corner for deception. It wasn't as if Hermione was his. He'd made it very clear that he was in mourning over the loss of his marriage. But every day with her had eased the pain. Each moment with her was played over and over again when he was alone in the darkness of his room, attempting desperately to sleep. But sleep didn't come easily these days. The only real moment he had ever felt truly at peace was a week ago when she had decided to stay. And now… now the time had come for him to let her go.

The door creaked open, and he heard her timidly say through the slats, "I look ridiculous."

"I'm sure it's not that bad. Come on, let's have a look."

She swung the door open and closed her eyes. But if she were to open them, she would have found Draco's face fall into a moment of inspiring awe. The plum coloring contrasted nicely against her creamy skin as it exposed her neckline with a v-shaped swoop between her breasts. It was strapless, accentuating her trim shoulders and heavenly sculpted collar bones. She had legs for miles that led down to her pointed toe high heels doted in a shiny gold film. And she was absolutely _breathtaking_.

"You're not saying anything. Is it that horrible? I look like a prostitute, don't I? I'm going to go change…"

"Don't you dare," he whispered, rising from his chair. She pried an eye open and shook her head.

"Go ahead then. I've been in the bathroom preparing for one of your quips."

"Hermione." Draco stepped across the room and placed a firm hand on her exposed shoulder. "You look just as stunning as you did at the Yule Ball."

Her open jawed mouth snapped shut, and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Are you saying my Yule Ball dress looked terrible? Because-"

"I'm saying that you look beautiful," he interrupted her, absently rubbing her silky skin with his thumb. "And I'm saying that if Diggle doesn't appreciate the fine wine that's presented to him, he really should stop drinking all together."

Flush came over her cheeks and spread down her neck. "I-I… Thank you. You'll have to forgive me. Compliments aren't the usual cup of tea coming from you."

"You were correct about your hair as well. It suits you."

"Really, you should just stop paying me compliments."

"What shall I pay you in, then?" He was going to move his hand away from her, he really was, but it had sprung a mind of its own as it slid across her collar bone and moved to cup the side of her alluring neck. "Insults?"

"I'd dare say I'm more used to those."

"Hermione -what's your middle name?"

"Hmm? Oh. It's Jean…?"

What sort of a middle name was that? He had to bit his tongue not to quip about the mere mundane of it. "Hermione Jean Granger, I'm positively insulted that you are wasting such a dress on someone like Auror Diggle, and I hope that your date fails like the Yuan Dynasty."

A smile crept on her lips. "With famine, draught, and bubonic plague?"

"The whole lot." He grinned back. She leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. Her perfume was different this time- like lavender with sprinkles of vanilla. She drew out the moment, her cheek brushing against his as she pulled away.

"Thank you." She was beaming.

"Right…" He found himself fidgeting as he pulled his hand away from her. "I… good luck, then." He rubbed the back of his head, noting the warmth his hand procured from being in contact with her. "Do I need to remind you of the different contraceptive spells?"

She shoved him in the chest. "Are you prepared for your outing?"

"Absolutely." He grabbed her arm before it could retract and jerked her close. "I'm more concerned that you'll screw the whole mess up."

"Me?"

"You'll have to sell it." He leaned forward. "It shouldn't be too difficult. I'm sure Diggle's tiny cock won't be too much trouble."

"Can we please stop talking about Greg's… appendage? I don't need to think about that right now."

"Of course. What shall we talk about then?" He found himself drawing her even closer, flesh up against his chest. So many things ran through his mind. All of the things he wanted to say but couldn't. All of the things he wanted to do to her. This was hardly the time to think about them, but here he was. "You know what I could use?"

"A few years of good therapy, I'd imagine."

"A good luck kiss." He smirked, watching her surprised reaction. "What say you, Granger? Think you could spare one?"

"I already gave you a kiss on the cheek."

"You and I both know that's not what I meant."

The doorbell rang.

Hermione's eyes fluttered away from his and to the door. She had a disheartened look as she whispered, "That'll be Greg."

"Another time then." He felt frustrated as he released her from his hold and stepped over to the floo. "Good luck." He stepped into the fireplace, catching one last glance at her revealing dress. " _Yuan Dynasty_ ," He reminded her before throwing the powder down and sending himself hurdling towards the Ministry.

* * *

Hermione blinked a few times, attempting to shake herself from the contact high of being so close to Draco's perfectly dangerous lips. She hadn't wanted the moment to end. Why couldn't she have been brave and kissed him? What sort of Gryffindor was she if she fell into fears? The kind that knew what falling for Draco Malfoy entailed. This sort of attraction… it was perilous.

The doorbell rang again.

"Coming!" she called, her shoes clopping as she made her way to the door. She pulled it open, cheeks still flushed, which worked perfectly in her case because Greg stood before her in a handsome pair of nice dress slacks and a tight fit button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearm. In his hands were three white roses.

"Wow." He blinked a few times. "You look… gorgeous."

"Thank you." She put on her best smile. "Are those flowers for me?"

"Well, I should hope so. Otherwise I've just bought flowers for myself, and that's rather conceited of me." Diggle grinned at his own joke and set the flowers in her hand with a quick kiss to her cheek. "Are you ready to go?" He gestured to a vintage Austin Cambridge car parked at the end of her driveway.

"Is that yours?" Hermione forgot that she was supposed to be acting, completely enthralled by the older model. "I just assumed we were apparating."

"Nonsense. Where would we find the time to talk? I believe you had some things you wanted to discuss with me." He offered out his arm, to which Hermione took, having been used to the idea by Draco that taking one's arm didn't mean she was degrading herself as a woman. It was courting. "Besides, you and I both come from muggle parents. I thought you'd enjoy the simplicity of a car."

"It's lovely." She lost her resolve to put on, and simply aimed to be herself for a while. It was much easier to talk to Diggle if they shared a common interest. It most certainly took the sting off. Diggle opened her side door, helped her inside, and went around to his own side before climbing in. "You've restored it," she mused, looking at the newly sewn leather and wooden steering wheel.

"My father always taught me to take care of the things that are precious." Diggle smiled, strumming his fingers along the dash. "This car was his. When he passed, I thought it prudent to give it new life."

"Your father died?"

"Yes. About ten years ago. But best not to dwell on the past, yes?" Greg turned the key into the ignition, and the engine roared to life. "Truth be told, Hermione, I was a little on the fence about if you really fancied me."

"Oh?" She felt her heart begin to slam in her ears, but she forced her breathing to settle as to not give herself away.

"Yes. I'm not completely inept to understanding the pain you must have gone through this last year." Diggle pulled out of the driveway, both hands on the wheels; a perfect gentleman. Hermione tucked her roses on her lap and concentrated on the foggy street as he spoke. "Losing a spouse couldn't have been easy. I won't pretend I know what that's like. Always been a sort of loner myself. But I have lost family, so I can say honestly that I know that this kind of pain never really goes away." He chanced a sideways smile to her. "But I know you can overcome it."

Hermione felt relief. Diggle didn't believe her distance had been due to her lack of liking him- only that she was still mourning the death of Ron. And she was. "You told me the last time we were out that your parents were muggles too…" She decided it wouldn't hurt to get to know him. "Were they both?"

"Yes."

"What were their professions?"

Greg chuckled. "Mum was a baker. Had her own cake shop below our flat. It was really nice a young boy to be awoken to the smell of cupcakes. -My father was an ambassador for the liaison between the Wizarding world and the Muggles."

"Oh? So he grew up knowing about magic?"

"My grandfather was a wizard. He married a muggle stewardess. Thus, my father."

"Wouldn't that make him a squib?"

She saw Greg's face tense. "It's such a nasty word, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult him. Squibs have nothing to be ashamed of." She reached out and patted him on the arm. "Besides, there are worse things you can be called…"

Glancing down to her arm, Diggle grew pensive. "I cannot believe someone would have the audacity to do something so heinous to you."

"I know there are others who had it worse during the war," said Hermione, her thoughts turning to Draco. "One set of scars is hardly a price to pay."

"But it's the _word_ ," Greg said, turning down a wiry road. "As if being two halves of two extraordinary races was anything to be ashamed of. We're all human, you know?"

Despite her earliest assumptions of Greg Diggle, Hermione found herself actually drawn in by his conversation. "Yes. I quite agree."

"I'm sorry to go on about it. I'm just very passionate on this sort of subject," he told her. "But enough about me. What about you? Your parents?"

"Dentists," she answered.

"Ah. Oral hygiene is very important. I suppose if I had been born with crooked teeth-?"

"-We wouldn't be on this date together, for sure." Hermione found herself giggling. She felt guilty for it-Draco was off performing dangerous acts in her honor, and here she was, enjoying the Yuan Dynasty as it charmed. She decided to turn the subject. "Listen, Greg. I've been meaning to talk to you."

"About Auror Malfoy?" He slowed down his acceleration as he took a tight curve in the road.

"Yes." Hermione chewed on her lower lip, yet again. It was her go to when she was thinking how to say something. "You told me that the reason you wanted me to get to know him was to ascertain if he was a danger to the Ministry."

"And you told me the other day you believe he isn't." He pulled off on the side of the road and parked the car. Greg turned his body towards her, leaning up against the wheel. "Care to share with the class, Miss Granger?"

His green eyes danced playfully in the moonlight.

"Draco-–Auror Malfoy," she corrected herself, "and I have grown to be friends, Greg. You sent me to watch him because I knew him best. Well, I'm giving you my full report. He's not a dishonest man. He's not out to take down the Ministry. If anything, I'd say his intentions are justified. And I think you've been too harsh on him."

Greg's face scrunched up like a leaf burning in the sun, but he caught himself and sighed. "I'll be the first to admit my prejudice nature makes me untrusting of his kind." He reached over the console between them and took her hand in his. Hermione wanted to jerk away, but told herself to stay put. "Perhaps… if you shared some of your experiences with me, I'd be better to understand your point of view." He drew her fingers up to his lips and kissed them lightly. "For all I know he could have used an _imperio_ curse on you to make him believe his ways are good."

Hermione scowled. She didn't like what she was hearing, and she withdrew her hand.

"I was only joshing you," he offered, apologetic. "Sometimes my humor goes a bit too far. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Yes… well…" She glanced down to the flowers in her lap and back up to him. "Harry and Ginny will be waiting for us, won't they?"

"Indeed." Greg stayed still, his thick lips pursing together nervously. "I'm very sorry if I've troubled you."

"It's alright." But it really wasn't. "I just don't take well to someone saying things about my friends."

"Then I'll remember not to do it again." He reached over the console again, this time slipping his hand over her cheek. Despite herself, she blushed. Though it wasn't from the enjoyment. It felt nearly perverse. "I really like you, Miss Granger. I know I come on a bit strong at times. I know that I act a fool and break protocol in the sake of wanting to care for you. My feelings are strong. I just want you to know that. And I want you to know that when you're ready to move on from your husband, I'm here."

She gulped. "T-Thank you, Greg."

"I'd like to kiss you now, if it's alright with you."

Hermione blanched, faked a very bad cough, slid out from the grip of his hand, opened the door, and pretended to hack up a lung until her chest hurt. She feigned a chagrined embarrassment and climbed back in the car. "So sorry, Greg. I've felt like I've been coming down with something for a few days. Best not to kiss me right now, unless you want to get it too."

Auror Diggle raised an eyebrow, climbed back into his seat, and turned the key. "My apologies, Hermione. Remind me to make you a cup of tea when we get to Harry's. My mother had this amazing recipe to cure coughs in a night." The car stuttered back to life, and to her relief Greg left the kiss alone, bringing the car back onto the road.

* * *

Draco landed in one of the many floos located in the Entrance Hall to the Ministry of Magic, thankful that the hustle and bustle that normally went on through the week was replaced with the weekend lull. A few Ministry employees worked over the weekends, so he wouldn't appear out of place coming in so late in the evening. He approached the check in desk, making eyes with the elderly receptionist.

"Hello, Aeris."

"Mr. Malfoy…" she drawled. "To what do I have the pleasure at such a late hour?"

"Forgot some training notes up in the Auror Division." He leaned on the counter, smirking. "Auror Diggle said I could just pop right up and get them."

"Did he…?"

"Aeris." He obviously pretended to feign surprise. "Do you _doubt_ me?"

Aeris Trudle pursed her wrinkled lips and rolled her eyes. "Whatever it is you're doing, I didn't see it."

"Sweet, sweet Aeris. I knew that our constant sexual tension would pay off one day." He gave her a sly wink. "Did you get the sweets I sent you yesterday?"

"Just get going, Mr. Malfoy. Before I change my mind."

"Thank you. -Whatever it is you're doing with your hair, it really is working. I bet Mr. Trudle is all over you in the night sack-"

"-GO."

"Yes, ma'am." Draco waved her off, taking his afterhours pass, and headed towards the elevators. As he climbed in, he wondered what Hermione was doing right this moment. Did Diggle already have his tongue down her throat? He didn't like to think of the idea, but it kept popping up like an unwanted erection during classes. What if he used his charms to reel Granger in like a fish? She wasn't that daft… no. She was intelligent. She would surely think of a way out of kissing him. Unless she truly wanted to act the part? She wasn't the best actress…

The elevator rolled to a stop, and Draco smirked as he twirled his wand intricately around his body and cast a Disillusionment charm. His entire body blended in with the scenery, and with light footing he took step after careful step into the Auror Division. There were a few Aurors scattered around their cubicles, half of them staring intently down at their paperwork, the other half falling asleep into their cups of coffee. Potter's desk was in the very back of the room, and Draco had made plans early on that this would be the first stop. As much as he wanted to get Weasley's information from Diggle, he knew that Potter's desk would be the harder one to crack. He didn't want to waste any time juggling around paperwork. Carefully, he crept through the room, avoiding a trashcan here or there and having to jut out of the way to avoid a leg that stuck out of a cubicle. Potter's desk was the largest, and most certainly the farthest away from all the others. It made it easier to work his magic as he tried spell after careful spell, peeling away the layers of barriers preventing him from opening the drawers. When he ascertained there were no more barriers to get through, he reached down to pull the drawer open -but it stuck. The drawer made a thumping sound, and he stood very still as he waited for any of the Aurors to take notice.

When they didn't, he rolled his eyes in realization; it was a simple lock. From a key. Of course Potter would use a muggle way of doing things. He spelled it open with _alohomora_. This felt almost too easy -like taking candy from a grubby, sticky fingered child. Surely the Ministry had better regulations for such things? Or was he just that good? He decided that it must have been the latter as he opened the drawers quietly and began to sift through the lot.

Come on… he thought. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a jumbled mess of scrolls in a manila folder marked 'Cane'. Jackpot. He slipped the manila envelope into the book bag that he had draped over his shoulder, and continued to look to make sure he wasn't missing anything else. His eyes stopped suddenly when he saw the words 'Diggle' on a folder. Oh, yes. Just like candy. He slipped that one in too, and finally came across something even more interesting than the last two. There were a few scribbled notes on a piece of lined paper, but the top was the part that caught his eye. Scribbled on it, it said, 'MAGICAL RESIDUE IN RON'S DEATH, RESULTS' in Potter's scribbly handwriting.

"Hey Jo!" said an Auror a few desks down, catching the attention of a dark skinned man wearing a fedora. "Want to go grab a coffee? If I don't get something in my system I'm gonna fall asleep working overtime for Diggle again."

"I hear you," Jo said, rubbing his scruffy chin. "Where does he go all the time? I get it, he's working those trainees to the bone, but that doesn't give him an excuse to dart out on his duties. Remember last weekend?"

"How could I forget? My wife gave me so much shite for missing our anniversary."

They stood up from their respective desks and left… hand in hand. Well, wasn't that interesting? Draco shrugged, strolled over to Diggle's desk, and pulled the drawer to test it.

It opened.

"That is definitely too easy."

He let go and ran his wand over the desk to detect any kind of traps. Nothing. "Hmm." He stowed his wand and reached into the drawer, pulling out a few envelopes, sifting until he found Weasley's file. Would anyone notice if he read over it here? He doubted it. He opened the file, anxiously praying to the God he didn't believe in that he wasn't responsible for any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> could there be some possible lemons in our near future? I think so! You all have waited for a while...


	15. Hatching A Plan

**He must be up to something**

**What are the chances? Sure it's more than likely**   
**I've got a feeling in my stomach**   
**I start to wonder what his story might be**   
**What his story might be, yeah**

**"When The Sun Goes Down" by Arctic Monkeys**

* * *

Dinner was just as awkward as the car ride, Hermione thought miserably, sitting across the table from Harry. He had seemed to be alright, for the most part, but the dark circles and small glares he was giving her were harder to stomach with each passing moment. He was pushing his peas around on his plate in awkward silence, so it was Ginny who decided to come to the rescue.

"So… did you hear the Weird Sisters have finally called it quits?" She bit down on a cooked carrot.

"That's a shame," Greg replied. "I rather liked their song 'Magic Works.'"

Hermione couldn't help find think that song was a bit pretentious. Even Greg's musical tastes were lackluster. "I'm surprised that they even were as popular as they were." She got a sideways glance from Greg and a giggle from Ginny.

"What do you think, Harry?" Ginny nudged him. He looked up from his plate, glanced around the table, and shrugged. "Harry." His wife tried again. "Would you at least attempt to act like you're interested."

"It's alright, Gin." Hermione sat her napkin on the table and stood up. "Obviously, Harry and I need to have a talk. Outside, Mr. Potter."

"What?" Harry's eyes darted up to her.

"I said outside. _Now_." She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of his chair. Ginny nodded to him to follow, and Harry begrudgingly did so, being dragged half way across the restaurant before Hermione finally released him from her hold. They walked out into the lobby, where a grand chandelier hung just over their heads, sprinkling spouts of colors over their faces. Hermione crossed her arms and said, "Well? Get it over with. Whatever's going on with you, just get it out of the way."

Harry looked surprised by her forwardness, but eventually gave way and scowled. "Why have you been lying to us?"

"Excuse me?"

"With Malfoy. The night at Diagon Alley. I've gone over all of the witness testimony. And you and Malfoy purposefully lied to both Greg and myself. _Why_?"

"It's… complicated."

"Since when have things that involved Malfoy not been? That doesn't mean that you can't open up to me, Hermione. You're my best friend."

"You have a funny way of showing it lately." She crossed her arms.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you've treated me like a child ever since Ron passed. I can't even begin to count all of the times I've saved your life over the years. You want me to open up to you? How about you start by explaining why you've been so distant."

Harry's thick eyebrows turned up in frustration, and his arms folded over his chest, mirroring her. "You're right. What I can say is this: don't trust Diggle, Mione."

The statement hit her like a ton of bricks. " _I don't_. But why… I thought he was your friend…?"

"I've been working hard to get close to him this last year. It's called an _investigation_."

It was all so surprising that Hermione started sputtering out questions right and left. "Investigation into what? Do you think he's guilty of something? Why have you been so cross with me? Is it because of him? You owe me answers, Harry. You owe me so many-"

He put his hand up to silence her. "I know." He sighed. "I know I do. Keeping this from you has been… difficult. You're right. I have been distant. But it's only because I was afraid that if you got too far into this, you'd be drawn onto the radar. I can't think how I'd go on if I lost you as well as Ron." He nudged to the door, and she followed him outside into the sticky, warm night air. "You're completely correct about your assumptions, Hermione. Ron's death was no accident."

Hermione could feel her heart jumping, a mix of horror and joy all at once. She had been right- her instincts had been dead on from the beginning. That gave her enormous relief. But then it hit her that she had been right… that Ron had been taken from her too soon, and by purposeful actions. That made her want to tear down the city to find the responsible party. Draco's words came to mind. ' _If Astoria ever died I… I'd want to burn the world down_.'

"So you suspect Diggle?" she asked.

"Diggle couldn't have done it. He was with me at the time of the explosion." Harry closed his eyes. "At first, I thought it was just a cursed object like we initially thought. But then I discovered evidence in Diggle's desk that made me question everything."

"Evidence?"

"Some magical residue at the crime scene. Fine, white powder sprinkled everywhere. The same residue that's been in five different cases in the last year. Care to take a guess what they all have in common?"

It didn't take Hermione long. "Bastian Cane."

"That's why I was surprised when you had put the pieces of Diagon Alley together so quickly, Mione. I thought maybe Diggle had you under some sort of Imperio charm and was trying to get me to spill what I knew. -But the way you were acting in there; you obviously can't stand the man. You're a terrible actress, Hermione." He cracked a smile, opening his eyes again. "Diggle hid evidence from the Ministry and covered up the link between Cane and Ron's death. But I can't prove it. Not without more evidence."

"So Diggle is involved with Cane?"

"I think so. What I can't figure out is why."

She thought back to Draco's shared memories, and his interactions with Cane _. I have a motivation to protect muggles at all costs_. "Greg shares a common interest with Cane. They both care about the muggle community. It could be the linchpin."

"How do you _know_ that? How could you possibly know anything about Cane?" Harry looked very serious. "Earlier you said you had a source. Who is your source, Mione?"

"I… that I can't tell you."

"Hermione!"

"I'm sorry, Harry! If I were to share my source, they'd never trust me again. Don't worry. My source is good people. They've interacted with Cane before."

"That doesn't sound like that makes them anything _good_."

"You're going to have to trust me," she said.

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. "Alright. Fine. But they need to come forward. I can't run off of anonymous sources."

"I'll talk to them about it. I doubt he'd be in favor of it."

" _He_?"

"-So why decide to tell me any of this?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

"Because I'm tired of lying to you. When I heard you and Greg were dating, it really struck something in me. He's not Ron, Hermione. He's _not_ good people. I was afraid he was taking advantage of you somehow. I didn't know if I could trust you."

She debated on telling him about Diggle's proposition in regards to spying on Draco for information, but the thought of bringing up Malfoy at this time wasn't wise. Especially when he was stealing files for her. It might draw attention to the files themselves, and then Diggle would know they were missing. Another time, she thought, after they could put the files back. Besides, she wasn't entirely sure how Harry felt about the fact that Draco was a Death Eater turned Auror himself. Would he side with Greg's ideas? She would tell him… just not now. Not until she could take a look at them herself.

"To be honest, I wasn't sure if I could trust you either."

"So… wha _t are_ you doing on this date, then?" He raised both of his eyebrows at once.

"To be honest…" She sighed. "I'm not even sure."

"We might be able to use this to our advantage."

"How?"

"Well, Greg likes you."

"Yes, about that- you and Ginny set me up on that horrid date two weeks ago. Why would you do that if you didn't trust him?"

"Honestly, I thought he was becoming suspicious of me for a little while. I thought, maybe if I set him up with you, it might distract him."

"You used me? To bait him?"

"Well, I know you can handle yourself. -Out of any witch in the world, I'd be very scared should any man try anything that you didn't want to do."

"That's low, Harry. Even for you."

"I'm sorry, Mione. I didn't know what else to do." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "But now that I've come clean, we can use this. Diggle doesn't suspect you. If we can keep the charade up, perhaps we can get him to let his guard down."

Why did everyone want to set her up with Greg Diggle?

"He's absolutely awful, Harry. I don't think I can pretend much longer. He's got charm, I'll give him that. But there's something about him that makes me feel… slimy."

"Mione, you wanted to be an Auror. This might be the best shot we have."

"So what is it you'd want me to do, exactly?"

"I need you to watch him. Tell me his patterns. His routines. If I figure those out, I might have an opportunity to find out what he's up to."

Why was this sounding so familiar?

"You want me to be a double agent."

He looked at her with puppy eyes. "Please, Mione? Just a little while longer?"

She sighed, exasperated. "What if he wants to… do things?"

"Hermione. You made Ron hold out on things for two years. - _Don't give me that look._ We were best friends. Of course he told me."

"Well I was a _virgin_! You'll have to forgive me if I was a bit nervous."

" _Two_ years."

"Oh, go suck a toadstool." Well, now she just sounded like Draco…

"My point was that you can make up all kinds of excuses not to do anything with him. He fancies you. I know Diggle enough to know he won't try anything with you unless you allow it. He cares very much how people perceive him. Besides, you're my best friend. If he tries anything, you can come right to me and I'll have an excuse to throw him into holding."

"Fine…" She leaned her head on his shoulder. "For you, I'll do it. But I'll be expecting a big favor in the future."

"Sure, Mione. Whatever you want, you just name it."

* * *

"I'm glad you and Harry were able to work things out," said Diggle as he walked Hermione to her front door. "I hate seeing my two friends fight."

"Friends?" She asked, stepping up the front door step to become eye level with him. "Is that what we are?" She did her best to sound convincing, picturing in her mind's eye that she was asking the question to someone else. Someone with a chastising smirk and silver flecked eyes.

"I'd like to think we've grown to be at least that," he answered her. "But… I would like to do this again sometime. If you're up for it."

 _Force a smile. Look interested_. "I'd love that, Greg. Maybe we could do something physical? Like bowling?"

"I haven't been bowling in years," he mused, scratching his chin. "Think I could still beat you though. I was bowling champion of my elementary school. Before Hogwarts became my home."

"Ah, sounds like we have something in common then. I too excelled in the practice." She laughed. "But I think, for now, it might be best if we kept our… friendship to strictly outside of Auror training. I get enough gruff as it is about being a woman. I don't think I could stand if I was given grief about us."

"There's an us now?" Diggle smirked.

"I guess you'll just have to see." She gave a flirtatious grin and turned the handle of her door. "G'nite, Greg. I'll see you on Monday."

"Monday it is." He bowed, gave an aloof grin, and turned to walk back to his car as Hermione stepped inside and shut the door. When she was sure he was gone, she leaned up against it and gave out a heated sigh.

"Dear Lord almighty, that was positively the worst date of my entire life." She made to change out of her dress, slipping her fingers into one of the loops in the back, but stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed she wasn't alone. Draco sat on her only bar stool at the kitchen counter, having dug out her best wine and was now nearly half down with the bottle. Atop the table, he was reading something. He glanced up to her, gave her a silent toast, and chugged down the rest of his glass. "Is that _my_ wine you've decided to pop open without asking?"

"Don't worry. If I drink enough of it, I'm sure I'll be able to give it back to you very soon. Would you like it in the form of piss or vomit?"

"That's disgusting." She lowered her arms, slipped off her heels, and carried herself over to stand by his side. Her eyes glanced over what had displayed before him. "Why are you looking at a blank parchment?"

"That's not a blank parchment," Draco grumbled, tipping the wine bottle into the glass and filling it back up to the brim. "That's Weasley's file."

"What?" Hermione jerked it off of the counter and flipped through the different parchments. Every single one of them were blank. "There has to be some sort of explanation. Have you tried-?"

"-Checked it for invisible ink, hexes, jinxes, the entire work."

"So… it's just paper? To fill up a file?"

"Not exactly." He snatched his wand off of the counter and pressed it to the top page. Words formed over the top.

_'Good try.'_

"He must have known we were coming," Draco hissed, turning back to the wine to take a hearty swig. "It must have been why he was so fine with going on that date with you."

"Hold on a moment," she told him, digging out her own wand. "Hold on just a bloody well moment. I've seen this kind of spell before."

"Have you?"

She tapped her wand to the parchment. New words formed. _'You look very fetching tonight.'_

"It's a password charm. Simple, but effective. -Harry's father had one on a map once."

"So it unlocks with a password?"

"Yes." Hermione reached over, took the wine glass from him, and downed the entire glass. He watched her in awe, impressed. When she finished, she wiped her lips with the back of her arm and set the glass back down. "I needed that."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Devious-Diggle-Date go that bad, I take it?"

"Oh. You have no idea." Hermione told Draco about what she had discussed with Diggle in the car, his love for muggles, and how Harry had been plotting against Diggle for some time. Draco listened intently, and when she finished, he whistled.

"That's… wait. Potter wants you to continue to date Diggle?"

"He thinks Greg will let his guard down if I do." She poured the rest of the wine into the glass, already starting to feel the effects of the first one. Draco took the glass from her, sipped on some himself, and handed it back over.

"I don't like it." He scowled.

"Well I don't either. But clearly it must be done." She leaned against the counter, resting her elbows back. Draco's eyes trimmed over her dress, and she gave a small cough. "On the subject of the folder, we should just be able to figure out the password. Simple deduction."

"You seem awfully calm about it all." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"If Harry's theory is correct, Bastian Cane is behind Ron's death."

"Which clearly means I'm partially responsible…" He let his voice trail off, and his eyes fell to the floor. "There was a paper in Potter's desk. One about residue at the crime scene."

"Magical residue, yes. We talked about it."

"I know what it is."

"You do?"

"It's a sleeping powder of Cane's own design. It's what he used to knock out the wanted criminals he would take in. Once it's been used, it's nearly untraceable."

"So… Ron was drugged?"

"I'm not sure." Draco grabbed the paperwork from her and sat it back down on the counter. "If I could just see these irritating files..."

Hermione understood. They both had wanted answers. And tonight only brought with it more questions. It hadn't been as successful as they had hoped. "We'll figure it out, Draco. I know we will." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "This is a lot of stress. You should relax. With Harry on our side, I know we can figure this all out."

"I'm not coming clean to him."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll get thrown in Azkaban. That's why."

"Harry's understanding… he'll listen."

"Not doing it."

"Fine. At least think about it?" Hermione leaned closer and kissed his cheek. She turned away from him, but he grabbed her hand and turned her back. Swiveling on the stool, he turned to face her. His eyes shone brightly in the light of the kitchen.

"I don't like it," he said to her. "You having to pretend with Diggle."

"Neither do I," she replied.

"You shouldn't have to pretend to care for someone as grotesque as him."

"He's hardly grotesque."

His face tightened, and he stood from his chair, towering over her. "See, when you say things like _that_ , it really doesn't convince anyone that you don't have some burning lust deep down inside for him."

"Well, there isn't." She frowned.

"Good." He gulped. "That's… good then." They stood there quiet for some time. It wasn't until Hermione made to move again that he said anything, blocking her path, standing right in front of her, his eyes worn and frustrated. "You're infuriating, you know that?"

"I didn't, but I'm sure you're going to tell me why."

His hands slid up her arms, tracing her shoulders delicately, until they came to rest on the sides of her neck. His thumb pads brushed under her jaw, making her eyes flutter closed for a split second. She opened them, however, when he said, "What am I to you?"

"What?" she whispered.

"What. Am. I. To. _You_." Each word was crisp and cutting. "Tell me."

"You're a friend,"she replied quietly, her knees shaking. She kept her hands down at her sides, dare she reach up to touch his face. And she wouldn't do it. She just couldn't. But oh, the way his eyes were boring down on her, so hard and heavy, made her want to forget herself for only a moment. "You're my very close friend."

"Is that all?"

How could she answer him? She wasn't entirely sure how. "I… trust you. Despite all my knowledge of you. You'd never hurt me."

"No. I wouldn't." He leaned in closer. "Go on."

"You're just a friend," she whispered to him, tearing her eyes off to the side.

"Hmm." His fingers caressed her skin. "What's your favorite color, Granger?"

"What? Why?"

"Just answer the question."

"I rather like red," she said honestly.

"And your birthday? When is it?"

"September Nineteenth… but what does that have to do with anything?"

"One more question." He drew his face even closer to hers, nose to nose. "Favorite dessert?"

"Eclairs…th-the chocolate ones… But… why are you asking me all of these questions?"

"Because I'm a friend." He brushed his lips against hers. "And because I thought it prudent to know you a bit more before…"

"Be-before…?"

His eyes lit up with the smirk that played across his lips. " _Before you_ _beg, of course_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? Is that a lemon I see rolling this way? XD  
> Please leave a review! Can't wait to hear your thoughts!  
> Love, A.


	16. Beg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LEMON ALERT! LEMON ALERT! IF YOu ARE A-SEXUAL OR DON'T ENJOY LEMONS, JUST AVOID THIS CHAPTER, I GUESS?

**_And aren't you gonna tell me what comes next,_ **

**_Or am I just supposed to know?_ **

**_Do I make my own decisions here,_ **

**_Or am I under your control?_ **

**_Cause I could go on for days,_ **

**_Just crazy about it, oh,_ **

**_And it's startin' to getcha now,_ **

**_Oooh now you're comfortable,"_ **

**_It's like a skydive,_ **

**_Or gettin' high,_ **

**_The kinda feeling could just kill ya,_ **

**_"WTF" by OK Go_ **

* * *

"What am I to you?"

He didn't know why he had asked it. He wasn't sure why he wanted- no, _needed_ to know so badly. Maybe it was the news that she would be courting Diggle again that drove him. Maybe it was the way she looked in that dress, so alluring and yet so innocent that made his emotions gnash their teeth like a bridled horse. He was trying so hard to pull them back in, but they were wild, unbroken, and they wouldn't be shackled any longer.

"You're a friend."

A friend, yes. Fifteen years of knowing someone could do that to you, even if you didn't want it. A friend that was there through the worst situations; death, divorce, mourning.

"Is that all?"

He could live with it if it was, but the look in her eye that was jaded with alcohol's kiss told him differently. And he was a single man now. He could notice those kind of things.

"I trust you. You'd never hurt me."

"No. I wouldn't." Not emotionally, anyways. He couldn't guarantee his body wouldn't attempt to make her scream if it got its way. "Go on."

"You're just a friend."

Yes, at this exact moment, he was just that. He knew he had no business trying to seduce her with his touch -he was just a broken man after all. His heart hurt, his head ached with alcohol, and his stomach was unsettled by the way she tore her eyes from him. But it was that unsettling feeling that told him that yes, he did actually care about her in a way more than what he had ever intended. He wasn't sure why it was so strong tonight, but he didn't want to dwell on it. Everything was so up in the air- this might be the only time to act on these feelings before it all came crashing down. He wanted her to know that she was more than a pawn to him. She was more than beautiful skin and sultry eyes to be used for the seduction of -gag- Gregory Diggle. She was _his_ Granger.

Possessiveness took him over.

"What's your favorite color, Granger?"

Red. Of course it was red. Ever the true Gryffindor.

"And your birthday? When is it?"

Just three months after his.

"Favorite dessert?"

So he could surprise her with it later.

"Why are you asking me all these questions?"

Oh, this was priceless. He could feel her shiver under his touch. Yes, she did want him. She just was fighting it. But they were both adults, weren't they? Why would she fight something that they both clearly wanted?

"Because I'm a friend." He knew he couldn't hold out much longer. Not if she didn't stop quivering under his fingers. Merlin, he just wanted to taste her again. Would she like that? Would she fight or concede? He didn't want to piss her off, so he felt it out, brushing his lips against hers. And oh, yes. She did like that, didn't she? ""And because I thought it prudent to know you a bit more before…" Hook.

"Be-before…?" Line.

"Before you beg, of course." Sink.

He lost control, driving her up against the counter with a destructive kiss that stole the breath out of both of them. His fingers slipped up into her hair, tugging it at the nape of the neck, forcing her to groan into his mouth as their tongues collided. The need consumed both of them, and he was surprised when she pushed herself up onto the counter to sit, yanking him in further, pressed chest to chest as their tongues battled for dominance. She tasted like wine and punch-drunk lust, and it was heavenly.

Her legs wrapped instinctively around his middle, taking away all distance between them and positioning him right where he had fantasized about for the last week; being trapped between Hermione's long, silky legs with his erection so dangerously close to her warm, wanting…

"I don't do this," she whispered between kisses, tugging at the bottom of his long sleeved shirt to bring it over his head. He let her, sliding out of it and watching it be tossed to the floor before bringing his eyes back up to hers. The black ink of his tattoo contrasted against his pale skin, drawing attention. The atmosphere changed drastically between them as he watched her eyes fall on it. There wasn't just lust scattered about -there was a dark, fluttering heat that washed over him when she reached out and scraped her nails against the skull. "I _really_ don't do this…"

"Do you want to stop?" he asked.

Her nails traced down the snake. "No." She pulled her hand away and brought it up to his cheek. "No, I don't want to stop."

When he kissed her again, it was gentle. He needed her to know something, he just wasn't sure what it was yet. Her hands slipped around his neck, and his hands found their way underneath her legs, scooping her up into his fingers. He lifted her up off of the counter, hands sliding further up until he was cupping her ass to hold her in place. The dress really was a nuisance, but he ignored it, carrying her out of the kitchen as he trailed kiss after delicate kiss down her jaw, ear, and neck. She groaned softly as he shoved her up against the nearest wall, hands still firmly gripping her sensational backside. He took his time bunching the silk material of her dress up her thighs, settling his pelvis between her legs to prop her up against the wall. It rubbed his erection against the soft material of her panties, but he told himself he'd get to that momentarily. He wanted to draw this out as long as he could.

He nibbled on her earlobe, eliciting a timid gasp. "Yes…" she whispered. He couldn't help but smirk.

"You like a bit of pain, Hermione?" he murmured into her hair, brushing his lips right up against her ear. "What do you want? Do you want me to ravish you? Do you want me to pull your hair? Bite you? Tell me what you want done, I'll do it."

"Mmh…" Her fingers down the base of his neck before sliding back up into his hair. "Whatever you want." Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was parted. She was completely under his control.

"That's a dangerous request," he taunted her as he dug his nails into her delectable ass. She yipped in response, but her eyes still stayed closed. She was shy. Wasn't that adorable? "Are you sure?"

She bit down on her lower lip, and her eyes fluttered open temporarily. "Either get on with it or go take a cold shower." Her voice was teasing, and she kissed him lightly. "I'm sure."

A shower… yes, he rather liked the idea of that. The cogs in Draco's mind began to work as he set her delicately on the ground and fixed the skirting of her dress. Hermione looked positively baffled when he withdrew his lips from hers and gave a lengthy stretch. "A shower then. Which way is your bathroom? This way?"

"What?" She blinked. It was everything he wanted out of a reaction. Her body was shaking, her cheeks were flustered, and the lust in her eyes could not be hidden. She wanted it. He'd just need to get her to say it.

"You said I could either get on with it or take a cold shower." His smirk was prominent. "Is it in your bedroom?"

"Wh-what about… what we were doing?" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Oh. That?" He chewed his lower lip seductively. "You haven't begged yet, love." With a playful wink he sauntered off in the direction of her bedroom, kicking off his shoes, his socks, and finally, as he reached the door, he let his trousers fall to his ankles, the buckle clanking as it hit the floor. Her eyes widened as he stood there in just his underwear, allowing her to rake in the sight of him. "You coming?"

* * *

Hermione couldn't believe what she was doing as she followed him into her bedroom, the darkness slipping over them like the attraction that had consumed them. She didn't know why she needed this so damn bad, but she wasn't about to let the moment escape her. It had been nearly a year since Ron's death, and it had weighed heavily on her for so long… but in Draco's arms, suddenly she had felt free again. She felt beautiful, and sinful, and filled with attraction she didn't know she could feel for someone after her loss.

She misplaced him for a moment, until she heard the shower turn on from her bathroom, and she saw the light under the door. Oh God. This was it, wasn't it? She could leave right now, if she wanted, and she didn't have to take this any farther. But behind her eyelids, all she could see was Draco. Her feet carried her to the bathroom, and she opened it to find him already in her shower, curtains drawn, but his silhouette still hung in the backdrop like a strip tease.

"Draco?" she squeaked out, and he pried the shower curtains open, only covering his most private of areas as he smirked at her.

"Hermione." He cocked an eyebrow. "Join me?"

She nodded, taking in a deep breath. He shut the curtain once more, allowing her the time she needed to find her courage. She reached back to the loops of her dress, heart stammering, her entire core filled with warmth. She undid each loop carefully, her courage growing with each tug of a button dislodged. The dress fell to the floor with a small _whoosh_. She shimmied out of her underwear, took in a very deep breath, and padded her way to the shower. She pulled it open slightly, slipped a leg over the edge, and climbed in.

Hot steam rose up around her, but it didn't take away from the fact that there was a very attractive, naked man standing in her shower with his backside to her. Oh Lord, his back rippled with muscles as he ran his fingers through his white-blonde tresses. Her eyes trailed lower, and she felt the blush creep on her cheeks as she stared at his round, taut ass. She gulped, turned to leave, stopped herself, and then reached out and touched his arm. He turned around, startling her, but she relaxed as soon as she saw his silver eyes meet hers. "Hello," he whispered. His voice was lower, gravely.

"Hi." Her fingers were still on his arm, and he noticed, allowing his eyes to leave hers to trail down over the curve of her breasts and the roundness of her hips before they trailed back up and over to her arm. It just so happened to be the one marked with the distasteful word. He noticed her apprehension and tugged her arm up to his lips, kissing over each letter. "You." **M.** "Are." **U.** "Beautiful." **D.** "Intelligent." **B.** "Brave." **L.** "Sexy." **O.** "Kind." **O.** " _Mine_." **D.**

With a jerk, he spun her around and pulled her to him, pressing his chest up against her back, letting his lips rest in the crook of her neck. "Do you know what I do to things that are mine, Hermione?"

Her name on his lips was like a prayer. She wished he would pray to her all night. She got brave, finding her voice as she whispered over her shoulder, "What do you do?"

His erection pressed against the top of her bum, hard and ready and wanting. "I play with them. Do you want me to play with you?"

 _Oh, yes please_. She nodded, closing her eyes as she let his hand slip up her stomach until it cupped one of her breasts. His fingers tweaked her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. "Ah." She gasped, biting down on her lip. He tugged at it, hardening it, making it pebble before he slid his wet, hot hand over to the other breast and did the same damn thing. This one he played with a bit rougher, testing her to see what she could handle. And she wanted to handle whatever he could dish out. So she backed up further into him, grinding her ass against his length and moaning softly. "Yes."

"Like this?" He repeated the motion, earning a squeal of delight. "Oh, Hermione. You're such a bad girl, aren't you?"

"So bad."

"You want to be punished."

"Yes."

"Beg me for it," he whispered against her cheek, digging his nails into the soft flesh of her breast. Her head fell back against him, and her eyes fluttered open. She wanted to defy him -it was the competitive nature of her, but her the throbbing between her legs took precedence over everything else. She needed him to touch her, to ravish her, to take her. She needed to beg him.

"H-How do you want me to beg?"

"Say please."

"Please."

"Please, _Draco_."

"Please, Draco," she moaned as he smacked her ass hard. "I need you to punish me."

"I know you do." He bit down harshly on her neck, right at the base near her shoulder. "And I will. But first, you need to beg me properly."

"That wasn't sufficient?" She turned her body towards him, full of concern and frustration. What more could he possibly want from her? The chuckle from his throat tickled her ears.

"If you really want to convince me, I think you'll need to make a compelling case." He kissed her, slow and sultry, before he pulled away and slid her hand over the hard muscle between his legs. Oh good God, he was rock hard. The skin was warm and silky smooth, and the head twitched in her palm as she rubbed her fingers over the length. He was a good measurement, she noted timidly, and his girth was thick enough for her to imagine what it would be like inside her. She found herself licking her lips, the sexual prowlress in her crawling out of the depths of her soul to settle between his legs as she fell to her knees. He hissed a breath, anticipating her.

"Like this?" she whispered against him before she flicked her tongue out and swirled it playfully around the head. She looked up to watch him as his head fell back and his eyes closed. His hand reached out and fisted a good bit of her hair, encouraging her to part her lips to take him in. He tasted like salt and skin and sin and heaven. She loved it. Her mouth slipped around him, fitting him, tightening to leave no room but her wet tongue and soft lips. He groaned, his toes curling beneath her, and she went all the way down to the base of his fleshy cock, face buried in blonde curls as it hit the back of her throat.

"Merlin, fucking Jesus Christ…" Draco hissed through his teeth.

Hermione held it there a moment, drawing out the moment, before she slid her mouth all the way down to the tip again and licked the precum. "Did that convince you?" she asked huskily. It took him a few moments to come to his senses (no pun intended) and glance down to her.

"Where the _Hell_ did you learn to do a thing like that?"

"You didn't like it?" She frowned.

"Oh, I never said that." He pointed a finger at her, running his other hand through his hair. "Son of a… holy… You most certainly are a bad girl, indeed." He pulled her back up to her feet and slammed her hard against the wall. "I'm thoroughly convinced, Miss Granger." He slid his hand down her stomach, stopping to rest just above the crease between her thighs. His other arm braced her across the collar bone, pinning her. He rubbed his nose against hers. "I feel as though I should return the favor."

Hermione waited, eyes half-lidded in eagerness as he slipped his fingers between her legs and finally touched the place that practically yearned for him. His middle finger slipped between her folds as his thumb found a comfortable place against her clit.

"So wet…" he noted, tracing his middle finger around her entrance but not allowing her the relief of slipping it in just yet. He flicked it forward, trailing along her slit, teasing. "Beg me, Hermione."

"Please Draco." She moved to kiss him but he backed his head away just out of her reach. It was painfully sinister. "I'm begging you… You can do whatever you'd like to me… just…"

"Just…? Just what?"

"Just make me come," she breathed, closing her eyes. He didn't need any more cueing. He pressed his sure finger into her and made her gasp. He took his time, slowly pushing, testing the waters, until he was all the way inside. Oh God did she like it. And then he curled his finger, searching for the spot to make her cry out while his thumb traced tiny circles along her clitoris. Hermione's knees all but buckled under the feeling of his sure hand at work. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for, and she whimpered in ecstasy. "Yes… Mmmh.. Fu-u-ck…"

He slipped his finger out and back in, hitting the spot instantly this time. Hermione's hips bucked forward to meet his finger, and he began to kiss her neck as he inserted as second finger, filling her up more until she felt her mouth fall open.

"Draco…" she whispered into the hot, steamy shower air. "Yes.. ah… yes, Draco, like that…"

His fingers worked at a steady pace, neither going to slow or putting too much pressure. And just when she thought the moment couldn't get any sexier, he started whispering filthy things into her ear.

"Fuck, Hermione… do you know how sexy you sound?... Moan for me… yes… good girl… you're such a good girl now, aren't you?... You'd do anything to have me inside you… mmmm…fuck my fingers like the good little slut you are… I want to taste you… would you like me to taste you?"

"Y-Yes…!"

And suddenly he had dropped to his knees and his tongue was on her and -OH! Wow. That felt amazing. "Fuck… Draco…"

"You're going to come for me," he breathed against her aching bud. "Aren't you, Hermione?"

"Yes… oh yes…" She grasped his hair as his tongue dove onto her, wet and warm and… "Oh fuck!" She clenched up, her toes curling, and she came, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her like holy water. He lapped at her, riding her out until she was spent, and then withdrew his fingers from her. He stood, smirking, and without warning shoved them into her mouth to make her taste herself. The act was as hot as it was thrilling, and Hermione suckled on his fingers until she licked them clean. Draco kissed her roughly, forcing her to taste herself. It was all so seductive that she moaned into his mouth.

"Hermione," he whispered, pulling her off against the wall and into his arms. She stared up at him, post orgasm lust still gleaming in her eyes. "I… I can't… I need…"

She knew what he meant, and she nodded in understanding. She pulled a leg up around his waist, eyes set in his, and nodded. Her arms draped around his neck. Draco gripped her hips tight, shortening the distance between them before his hand slid down to his throbbing cock and slammed into her like a hand in a fitted glove.

Hermione's head fell back.

Draco's eyes closed.

They were in perfect unison, both of their bodies intertwined, confiding in each other in the most intimate of ways- because sometimes, when all the world is swallowing you whole, and you don't know where to turn, you can lose yourself in someone else. Which is exactly what they did.

Draco rolled his hips, slipping out of her to the tip, opening his eyes and gripping her hair to force her forward to look at him before slamming back in. Hermione bit back a loud moan, but he wouldn't have any of it. He gripped her up by her legs like he had when he had carried her in the kitchen and pressed her back into the wall, gentler this time. The water was turning lukewarm, but neither of them cared. He showered her neck in kiss after kiss as he moved in and out of her. Hermione raked her nails down his back, earning a tempered moan from him against the crook of her neck.

"Fuck…" He licked up her neck and bit her earlobe. "Wanna make you… scream…"

His thrusts became rougher, tugging one leg up above his shoulder and then the other, gripping her backside to support her as he drove into her. Hermione cried out, lost in the pain and the pleasure, unsure of which felt better. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his face. Draco slipped one into his mouth and she all but lost it, coming undone at the seams, and before she knew what was happening he was rocking her into another orgasm while she screamed at the top of her lungs. He buried his head into her shoulder, panting, driving home before he came as well, lost in a slur of incoherent words.

Hermione's nails dug into the back of his skull. Draco's legs shook beneath him. He looked up to her, lost in his own primal orgasm, mouth parted and eyes heavy. "Fuck," he whispered before leaning forward and kissing her. He set her down on the floor, and Hermione found that she couldn't stand, so she just sort of slumped against wall awkwardly while he reached over to turn the shower off. He crouched down beside her, slipped into the spot next to her, and wrapped an arm around her. Hermione, her heart leaping in her chest, leaned into his touch and placed a cheek on his shoulder.

"That was…" she whispered.

"Yeah…" he replied.

They both laughed in the echoing hall of the shower.

She wasn't sure what there was to say. Was there anything, really, _to_ say? But leave it to Draco to find something to break the ice.

"So… was that better than Diggle's tiny cock?"

She elbowed him in the ribcage, and he coughed. She found her legs tingling, and with unsure footing she pulled herself up and stepped out of the shower. She retrieved two towels from the cabinet, handed one to Draco (who had followed her lead and stepped out of the shower as well.) He smiled to her as he took it. The question looming on both of their minds; where did they go from here?

"Thanks…" He rubbed the towel over his wet hair.

"Thank _you_." She smirked.

"Oh, you're _quite_ welcome."

They both laughed, still high off each other.

"So…" Hermione began to towel dry her damp curls. "…I think I'm going to skip over all of the awkward small talk, if that's alright with you, and just get down to it. Do you want to stay the night?"

His eyes lit up like Christmas lights. "To skip all of the small talk, as you put it- Yes. I'd damn well expect to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was everything you wanted out of their first time. So much room for more lemon-y goodness. Didn't want them to do EVERYTHING in one chapter, right?
> 
> Please let me know what you thought?   
> Will update soon.  
> A.


	17. Team Trio!

**One, two, three and four**   
**The devil's knocking at your door**   
**Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie**   
**Start your life with your head held high**   
**Now you're on your knees**   
**With your head hung low**   
**Big man tells you where to go**   
**Tell 'em it's good**   
**Tell 'em okay**   
**Don't do a goddamn thing they say**

**Oh, Lord, heaven knows**   
**We belong way down below**   
**Oh, Lord, tell us so**   
**We belong way down below**

**"Heaven Knows" By The Pretty Reckless**   
**I'd recommend listening to this before reading the chapter. It sets the tone up well.**   
**A.**

* * *

"The second trial is finally upon us," said Diggle as he led the group into a room the size of a small warehouse. The entirety of it was empty, sans a small wooden desk in the corner and a rope that hung from two stories up with a small bell dangling beside it. Draco wanted so to punch Diggle in his perfect teeth for two reasons; one, because he had never announced when they would be doing a second trial; and two, because he was giving Hermione 'fuck me' eyes. Or maybe he was just glancing around the room… either way, he didn't like the way his eyes set on her.

Hermione and Draco hadn't spoken much since their encounter this last weekend. They had spent the morning having breakfast together and smiling shyly at each other, but then Draco had to take his leave to pick up Scorpius, and they hadn't spoken at all on Sunday. He had wanted to write her- to tell her how much he had enjoyed their sexual escapade, but he wasn't sure what was going through her mind, and he most certainly didn't want to drive her away. So he had attempted to play it cool, but without speaking to her, he couldn't determine a feel for the situation. And if there was one thing Draco didn't like, it was not knowing what would happen next.

Dean Thomas was back in class again and had been paired as a third wheel to Draco and Hermione, much to Draco's chagrin. He wouldn't get an opportunity to talk about it all with her under whispered breath if Thomas were there to muck it all up. Maybe that was Diggle's play -keeping them at arm's length. But he didn't suspect them, did he? Hermione had assured him that Diggle's password charm was probably just a precaution and that he most certainly didn't suspect either of them or he would have thrown them out of the Academy. Draco wasn't convinced.

His scarring around his tattoo itched irritably, or maybe that was just the tension manifesting itself, but he scratched at it while he listened to Diggle as he spoke.

"When I blow this whistle," he said, holding up a silver whistle the size of a small block, "The environment around you will shift. Each of your groups will be separated by a magical barrier, so you will not interact with each other face to face unless you are paired together. This ensures everyone will have a fair advantage. To you, it will look and feel very real, but I must remind you it will all be an illusion. The goal is simple. Find the rope. Ring the bell. The first three groups to do so will continue on. The last group will be terminated. Any questions?"

Of course, it was Hermione to raise her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"What kind of illusions will we see?"

"Now, now. Where would be the fun of telling you?" Diggle grinned mischievously. "You'll never know what you encounter when you find yourself on a mission."

"How many people need to ring the bell?" chimed in Simmons. His hair had finally been turned back to its dull brown. Perhaps he got his mother to do it. Draco smirked inwardly.

"Just one." Diggle threw up one solid finger. "That's it. You might find yourself torn between your partner's safety and the possibility of finishing the mission. Make the correct choices, young padawans."

"Yeah, nobody knows what that means," Draco sneered.

"Oh, come on." Diggle threw up his hands. "Star Wars? Only one of the most genius films of its generation?" Hermione giggled beside Draco. He shot a glare her way. "No matter," Diggle said, "New assignment tonight. Go home. Every one of you. Watch Star Wars." He raised the whistle to his lips. "Ready?"

The high pitch squeal of the whistle rang in their ears, and Draco felt Hermione's hand slip in his -he was excited for a split moment until he noticed she had her hand in Dean's as well. "Together, boys."

The white-washed walls shimmered, flickering in and out of environments -tundra, desert, rain forest, and finally stopping like a wheel on a rocky mountain terrain covered with thick trees and high wild plants. The sky was murky above them, much like Draco's emotional status as Hermione released his hand.

"Well, this doesn't seem that intimidating," he noted.

"That's what you think," Dean replied, staring up at the sky with interest, "But this test isn't simple. Everything that happens to you in this illusion happens to you in real life."

"What?" Hermione frowned, turning her head towards him.

"So if you fall off of a cliff… splat?" Draco chimed in.

"Exactly." Dean rubbed his tired eyes- it looked as if he hadn't slept in days. "The last time I went through this trial I broke my leg in three places. I got pulled into a lake and nearly was eaten by a baby Kraken."

"Did you ring the bell?"

"Oh yeah. Worth it." He shifted his foot out before him and tested the ground for sturdiness before he stepped forward. "Nothing is going to be easy in this. Watch out for quicksand. I heard that the first year they ran this simulation, someone got sucked in by some, and they never heard from him again."

"Surely that's just a rumor," said Hermione.

"Can he hear us? Auror Diggle?" asked Draco to Dean.

"Probably. I honestly have no clue."

He made a mental note not to mention anything intimate, or that would challenge Hermione's trust with Devious-Diggle. "Hey, Auror Fancy Pants! If you can hear this, piss off!"

"Draco!"

"What?"

They glanced around at the rocky woods. Far off in the distance was a cliff. "Which way do you think we should go?" asked Dean.

Hermione placed her wand in the center of her hand. " _Point me_." The wand spun around in her hands a few times, gaining its bearings before it pointed left. "Right, so that's North. Where were we standing in accordance to the rope?"

"We were South of it," Draco answered her.

"This way, then. -You two keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I'll watch the compass."

"Ever as bossy as back in Hogwarts, eh Granger?" Draco withdrew his wand, as did Dean, and they flanked her on both sides as she stepped into the wooded forest, turning so that she faced North, and led them on. Draco got an unsettling feeling -the woods were dead silent. Not a bird chirping, not a rustle of a snake in the brush. What kind of a forest was this? "Anyone else get the feeling that this place is...cursed?"

"Gives me the willies, that's for sure," Dean replied.

"Stop." Hermione said suddenly, and they both obeyed.

"Was… that house… there before?" asked Draco. Where there had been a field only moments before sat a large cottage made of wood and bricks. It gave off a shimmering sheen as if it were coaxed in film. There was a thick, black door directly in the center, and large, white stepping stones led up to it. Dean took a step closer, wand drawn up.

"It's… made of candy…" He said wondrously. Draco raised an eyebrow, stepping up beside him to see- indeed it was. The bricks were built of dark chocolate. The wood was some kind of licorice. Every detail down to the white chocolate drizzled truffles that sat as shingles at the top was made of some form of desirable treat. It explained the sheen -it was all covered in shellac. The clear resin was everywhere, sealing the house.

"How interesting," said Hermione, less frightened than the others.

"Sorry. What's interesting?" asked Draco.

"It's like the story Hansel and Gretel." She noticed his confusion and added, "A muggle children's tale. There were two siblings, Hansel and Gretel, who came across a house made of gingerbread and candy."

"I remember that one," Dean nodded, "My mum would tell me it when I was little. When they started to eat the house, they fell under some sort of spell, and a witch captured them."

"Oh, of course the person with magical powers is the villain," sneered Draco, thoroughly annoyed, "What kind of idiot goes into the woods, discovers a candy house, and says 'Well, I'll just eat that!'?"

"They were children, Draco." Hermione rolled her eyes. "And they were abandoned in the woods by their father."

Oh, muggles were truly messed up. "I'd _never_ abandon _my_ child in the woods."

"Father of the year, right here folks."

"You have a kid, Malfoy?" Dean asked. Draco ignored him.

"Well go on. How does it end?"

"Gretel was made into a slave, and Hansel was to be fattened up by the old witch, who was blind. He was very pudgy, but he tricked the witch into thinking he was thin by offering out a bone as his arm. She decided to feed him for weeks, but he kept up the same trick until she became frustrated and decided to eat him anyway. She was going to cook Gretel too, but Gretel tricked the witch into leaning over the oven and shoved her in."

"And the witch was burned alive. See why some of us might be a _bit_ apprehensive about muggles?"

"Well," Dean replied, "She sort of had it coming if she was going to eat the children. You'll have to admit that."

Draco scoffed, rubbed his nose, and turned to the others. "So, what's the lesson here? Are we supposed to be as daft as the idiotic muggle brats and go inside?"

"Let's see if there's a way around it."

Hermione and Dean took one side of the house, and Draco took the other. Chills whispered down his spine as he approached the side, and he swore it felt as if he was being watched from the sugar-laced windows. He was just about to make it past the house when candy canes shot up from the ground, the tips whittled down like spikes. Draco jumped back, cursing under his breath. "Humph. _-Insendio_." Flames shot out of his wand, but the canes repelled them and the fire was snuffed out. Frustrated, Draco tried another spell. " _Evanesco_." The vanishing spell did absolutely nothing. The canes, if anything, grew higher until they were above his head. He tried to push his way through the slats between them, but even with his lean frame he was much too large. He tried to walk around them, but more canes shot up from the ground, just as big and just as sharp. "I bet they'd grow if I tried to levitate above them…" He grabbed up a rock and threw it up above the canes -they quickly grew and knocked the rock back at Draco. "This is absolute bollocks."

"Any luck on this side?" Hermione called as her and Dean rounded the corner of the house. Draco shook his head.

"Looks as if the house means for us to go in."

"We can do this." Dean nodded, shoving his hand out. "On three?"

"What's our battle cry?" asked Hermione as she stuck her hand in on top of Thomas's. Draco reluctantly followed suit, placing his hand in on top of hers.

"Draco Malfoy is a sexy prat?" he offered.

"That's too long," she replied. Much to his amusement, she didn't argue with the statement.

"Team Trio?" Dean suggested. Hermione nodded, Draco shrugged, and on three they all shouted, "TEAM TRIO!" (Although, Draco's was a bit less enthused.)

They walked around the house, and Draco felt that chill all over again that he had when he had tried to walk around it. No one lurked in those windows, but the feeling… it was overwhelming. He didn't notice his hand shaking until Hermione gave it a light squeeze and said, "I feel it too. Best do this in a bit of a run, don't you agree?"

"Right." He flashed a sideways smile at her, and she released his hand. Dean took to stepping stones first, hopping over them and walking right up to the door.

"It's one giant chocolate bar," he called back to them, "Should we knock and see if anyone's home?" He grinned back to them. "Maybe they've got some soda to wash this down wi-" The door jerked open and hands made of shadows wrapped around Dean's middle, yanking him inside in an instant! The door slammed shut.

"DEAN!" Hermione shouted, taking off running. Draco followed her, shouting, "Slow down, Granger! Don't lose your head!"

She jerked the door open and ran inside -Draco was already on her heels, but the door was quicker than him and slammed shut. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." He looked down at the door handle made of candy cane and swallowed back some vomit. "In we go then." He turned the handle, and the door opened slowly. He raised his wand, half expecting to be pulled in himself, but instead he was met with an empty room. The wooden floor creaked as he took a step inside. It had a musty smell to it, as if this house hadn't seen a human in years. He looked right and left, but there was no sign of Hermione or Dean anywhere. "Thomas? Hermione?" he called. He pointed his wand outwards and walked into the center of the room. By the furthest wall was a wooden staircase that led to the second floor. Draco's wand arm shook as he walked across the room and placed his free hand on the banister.

"Hermione?" he called up. No one answered. "This is horse shite." His feet trudged up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time until he made it to the top, where a wooden door waited for him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, took a breath, and turned the knob.

Inside was a cozy looking study. The walls were lined with thick bookshelves filled to the brim with old, worn out books with tattered spines. There was a fire burning in a fireplace on the wall opposite of him, and in front of it was a large, plush chair with its back to him. It was red, velvet, and oddly familiar. Come to think of it, so was the entire room. A lump formed in his throat when he realized why. Someone moved in the chair. Draco raised his wand. "Show yourself."

The figure rose up, silver white hair glowing against the firelight. The man gave a long stretch, sat down a book he must have been reading on the coffee table next to him, and turned towards Draco. Black, cold eyes met icy silver. "Hello, Draco. It's been a while."

If Draco Malfoy weren't just that- a Malfoy – he might have pissed himself right then and there. As it were, he straightened his back, brandished his wand out even further, and replied in his best cool tone, " _Cane_."

"Oh, don't sound so unhappy to see me," Bastian Cane replied, tucking his arms behind his back thoughtfully. "We used to be good friends, you and I."

"Where's Hermione?" Draco asked at once, eyes training around the room, "And Dean?"

"I have no clue." Bastian shrugged. "This house does crazy things. I have no control over it. But I did have the pleasure of adding my personal touch outside. Did you like it?"

Draco stared at him blankly.

"Oh come on! The candy canes! Get it? Cane? _Cane_?" Bastian scowled. "It's funny, Draco. Learn to laugh."

"I'll laugh once I see your head on a pike." Draco brandished his wand, shouting, " _Stupefy_!" Blue light shot from his wand and bounced off of an invisible force field in front of Cane's body. It jettisoned backward, and Draco had to dive sideways to get out of the way of it.

"Did you really think I'd be that daft as to not take the necessary precautions when reaching out to you?" Cane shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Draco, Draco, Draco…"

"This isn't real." Draco said to himself. "You're not real. This is all a part of the trial. -What are you? A boggart?"

"Am I really what you fear the most?" Cane looked impressed. "I'm honored to hear it. But alas… I'm the real deal, Malfoy." He untucked his hands from behind his back and gestured down his form. "Real as you. Real as your wife. Your child." He grinned maniacally. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out about Astoria's pregnancy?"

"You leave them out of this," Draco whispered coldly, fear setting in, "This is between you and I. Whatever score you have to settle, let it be with me."

"Oh, I plan to." Cane wagged a finger. "Not yet. But I plan to." He stepped forward, and Draco stepped back.

"How are you here? Did Diggle have something to do with-"

" _Auror_ Diggle? Oh yes. I dare say he's very much aware." Bastian Cane took another step towards him. "How did you like my little display in Diagon? Did you find it thrilling?"

"You put a lot of people in danger," Draco hissed through clenched teeth, "Even the muggles. Why would you do that? I thought the whole point of your little escapade was to protect them."

"I had to make a point to you," he replied. " _You_ burned down my Warren _. I_ burned down your pub. Seemed only fair." He shrugged. "Tell me, how did you manage to diffuse my bomb so elegantly? It was rather beautiful watching you work. That witch - _Hermione_ , wasn't it? That helped you out? She's fetching, isn't she?"

Draco tried not to react -not to give anything to Cane to use against him. But his lip twitched, and Bastian saw. "Oh, my. Trading one bad romance for another already?"

"You took out half of Diagon to make a _point_?" asked Draco, avoiding Cane's question. It worked. His rival nodded slowly, smirking.

"Sometimes, to make a few dragons, some eggs must be cracked in the process. -You have something in that sod-filled head of yours that I need. You _know_ what it is."

"My thoughts stay in my head. You got that, Dementor breath?"

"Of course. Whatever you say, Draco. You'll give into my side sooner or later, though. You always do. Besides, I have a few more of those Mines tucked away for safe keeping. I wonder where you'll find one next? Maybe in your dear child's crib?"

Draco screamed angrily, charging head first at Cane -but Cane disapparated on the spot, leaving Draco all alone. He skidded to the floor hard, his palms scraping against the wood. Cane's study dissolved into an empty room again, and he found Dean only feet from him, passed out. "Thomas! Thomas, wake up you stupid git!"

Draco's voice stirred Dean, who groggily sat upright and blinked. "Hmm? Shite, what happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Being dragged into this house. There was a witch… not like a normal one. She had warts and a hairy chin and straw hair. I swear to Merlin it was right out of a Halloween costume party…"

"You were dreaming," Draco told him, still searching the room for Hermione to turn up.

"No. It was real," Dean insisted, "Just like in Hansel and Gretel!"

Footsteps clambered up the stairs, and Hermione emerged, hair ruffled, covered in dirt. "Where _have_ you two been?"

"Where've we been?" sneered Draco. "Where the Hell were you?"

"I was here. Downstairs." She gestured to the door. "Honestly. How did you two get up here?"

"I was attacked by a witch!" exclaimed Dean.

Draco rolled his eyes. "He was passed out." He scrambled up to his feet, leaving Thomas to fend for himself, and stalked over to her. "Cane was here," he said quietly.

"What?" She furrowed her brows in confusion. "No, that's impossible."

"Who's Cane?" asked Dean.

"He _was,_." Draco insisted. "As real or you or I."

"Draco, this is a simulation. There's no way he was actually here. Are you sure it wasn't a boggart?"

"Goddammit, Hermione, I _know_ what I saw."

She blinked at him, then sighed. "This house is made to shake us. Do you know what I saw downstairs? Snakes. They were everywhere."

"I didn't see any snakes."

" _Exactly_. It plays on our fears. So… apparently I'm a bit more fearful of snakes than I originally thought, and Dean is fearful of witches of the fairy tale sort, which would explain why you saw Cane."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"We're in the _Ministry of Magic_ , Draco. Do you really think that Cane would be daft enough to charge through all of that security just to pay you a visit?"

"Who's Cane?" Dean asked again. Hermione looked uneasily over to him, making up a quick lie.

"He's Draco's great Uncle."

"Oh…" Dean scrunched up his face. "You're afraid of your great Uncle?"

"He… um… used to beat me something good," Draco replied, giving Hermione a thankful glance. He was actually surprised by how well she had sold it. Maybe she was getting better at acting. That was good, wasn't it? She just better not pretend to him.

"No wonder you turned out something awful," Dean said thoughtfully, finally dragging himself up to stand. He brushed off his robes and patted his pockets for his wand, finding it and giving a relieved sigh. "Let's get out of here, shall we? This place is royally scary."

"Yes. Lets."

The three climbed down the staircase, wands ready for any other opposing threats, but there were none to be had. They found a back door that had been hidden before now and jerked it open. To Draco's relief, the illusion of the sun beat down on their faces. He put an arm around both Hermione's and Dean's shoulders and grinned. "Fuck. That. House."

Hermione placed her wand in her hand again, said, "Point me," and they took off North again. The Forest was still as silent as the grave as they trudged on, and Draco had an opportunity while Dean took point to whisper to Hermione under his breath.

"Look, I know you think I'm blimey, but I know what I saw. It was Cane."

"I don't doubt that you believe Cane was there, but…" She bit her lower lip in thought. "Look, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Oh, so we're _friends_ now?" He raised a suggestive eyebrow.

"You know what I mean," she said nervously. "And as your friend, I'm going to tell you when I think you're overreacting."

"I swear to Merlin himself, Hermione, if you tell me what I saw wasn't real one more time I'll trip you right here and now."

"Can we talk about this later?" She gestured forward to Dean. "We need to finish this trial before the others, and we're getting distracted."

"Oh sure. Cane just threatens me and everyone I care about, but yes, the trial should take first priority," he muttered sarcastically. Dean had stopped up ahead at the clearing. They approached him to find themselves on the edge of a cliff -most likely the connection of the one they had seen at the beginning of their journey.

"Look out there," Dean pointed ahead. Dangling in midair seemingly out of nowhere was the rope. Draco glanced over the edge of the cliff. It was a good three hundred feet down the ravine.

"Oh joy…" he said dully.

"Well, we've found it," Hermione said, determined. She looked over the cliff herself and whistled. "That's a long way down."

"Really. Thank you, Miss Obvious."

"There's no need to get nasty." She grabbed his shoulder and dipped her foot over the cliff. Her foot scooped down, and she brought herself back up quickly, stumbling back. Draco reached out and caught her as she fell, cradling her in a dip that made her flustered. Their faces were dangerously close, and blush crept up her neck to her cheeks. "Th-Thank you."

"Anytime." He gave her a wink and sat her up straight. Dean looked to the two of them, raised both of his eyebrows, thought better of his assumption, and looked back at the canyon below.

"How do you suppose we get up there?" he asked.

"We could try levitation," Hermione suggested, "But I'm not sure how steady it would be on a human. I've only levitated inanimate objects myself."

"What about that desk?" Draco asked. "Remember the desk in the corner of the room when we first started? We could levitate that no problem. Do you think one of us could balance on it?"

"If the other two were levitating on either side…" Hermione did the calculations in her head. "It would work. Most definitely."

"We just have to hope no one else had the same idea," Dean chimed in. He waved his hand in a U shape and shouted, " _Accio_ Greg's desk!"

" ' _Greg_ ,'" sneered Draco. "He likes to be called Auror Diggle, you know."

"To those who he likes, he's Greg," Dean replied. They waited for a few seconds. "Do you think it was too far?"

A whistling sound was heard off in the distance, and suddenly over the horizon Greg Diggle's desk zoomed over towards them.

"Yes!" Hermione squealed, excited. "Oh, brilliant magical technique, Dean!"

"It's a simple _accio_ spell, Hermione," Draco grumbled, "Nothing to be impressed about." He could do it just the same.

The desk hovered slower as it approached them, finally landing gently next to Dean. He smiled to himself, proud. "Right. So which one of us will ride the desk?"

"Granger's the lightest," suggested Draco.

"You good with that, Hermione?"

"I trust the both of you not to knock me off, yes?" she asked to the both of them, already climbing on top. "You'll just need to get me close enough that I can grab the rope."

"You ever climb one before?"

"No, but I suppose no time like the present."

"Surfs up," Dean said to her, then looked over to Draco, "On three? One…"

"Two…" Draco counted, readying his wand.

"Three!" They both said at once. " _Wingardium Leviosa!"_

Hermione, crouched on the desk, gripped the edge of it tight as it levitated into the air. As soon as she and the desk broke the cusp of the drop-off, the sun began to sink behind a dark, menacing cloud that appeared out of thin air. It had been too easy, Draco thought to himself. "Looks like we're on a time crunch!" He shouted to his partners.

The cloud began to grow darker and darker, bolts of lightning jolting through it. It hovered above the rope. Hermione was far off now, looking determined. "Keep going!" she shouted. They did, and thunder grumbled from the cloud.

"Be careful!" Draco shouted to her.

She steadied herself upright on the desk as it drifted slowly towards the rope. "Maybe we should have transfigured a broomstick instead!"

"Now she tells us!" Dean griped.

"Just a little further!" She reached out; her fingers only inches away. A bolt of lightning darted from the cloud next to her, barely missing the desk. She screamed, closing her eyes, but she did not lose her balance. "Come on, boys! You can do it!" Her fingers were so close that her fingertips brushed against it. Another bolt -this time it hit the desk. Hermione cried out, and then she slumped like a ragdoll and went over the edge.

Draco's mind was in a panic. He barely had time to register what happened, but his subconscious was already at work. In a flurry of commands, he transfigured the desk into a broom, commanded it to him, and jumped on. It took off in the direction of the falling Hermione, and Draco's Quidditch instincts kicked in, zooming in on her like a snitch. He reached his arm out, grasped her by the waist, and pulled her into his lap.

"Granger! Hermione, say something!" He shook her as she lay motionless across his lap. "Goddammit, Hermione. Oi! Diggle! If you can hear us, take down the spell! She's hurt!" He looked up at the sky, waiting, but nothing happened.

"The bell!" Dean shouted to him. "Ring the bell! It'll end the illusion!"

Draco nodded once to him, climbing high into the air with his newly transfigured broom, cursing under his breath. The clouds grew darker once more the closer he got, but he avoided the lightning with quick darts of his broom and climbed higher still. Hermione stirred, her head resting against his chest. She coughed. "Draco?"

"I saved your life," he told her, the bell within his sights, "I expect a thank you."

"Thank you," She whispered.

"You and I both know that's not what I meant." His fingers grasped out and struck the bell. It rang with a clear, crisp chime, and the sky began to shimmer once again until it was nothing more than the white washed walls of the warehouse. Auror Diggle stood off to the furthest side, his face in a book. He glanced up at the hovering pair, first with a look of surprise and then concern as he saw Hermione. Draco turned his head behind him and saw Thomas standing on the floor, clapping his hands and whooping.

"That was brilliant, Malfoy!" he shouted as Draco and Hermione touched down. "Bloody brilliant!"

Draco felt pride swell up in his chest. It was burst instantly when he looked down to the injured Granger in his arms. "Can you walk?"

"Legs… tingly…" she whispered gingerly.

"Is that because of the lightning?" he asked, then added under his breath, "Or because you're so close to _me_?"

"What happened?" Diggle ran up to them, dropping his book to the ground. "Is she alright?"

"I'm fine, Greg," Hermione turned her head towards Diggle, "Honestly. Just a bit of lightning."

"Lightning?" He furrowed his brows. "You lot got the forest, I take it."

"You didn't know?" Draco asked, appalled. He sat Hermione on her feet but still held her up against him, rubbing her back methodically.

"Once you're sent into the illusion, I don't have any say in what happens next. There's no way for me to…" He reached his arms out, but Draco pulled Hermione closer to him. "Let me take her to the infirmary."

"I've got it." Draco scooped her up in his arms. "She's my training partner. My responsibility."

"Yes, well she's my…" Diggle stopped, his voice quieting. "My friend."

"She's my friend too."

They glared at each other.

"I'm fine," Hermione coughed again, this time, a bit more forcefully, "Really, gentlemen, there's no need to make a fuss."

"Here." Dean held out his arms. "I'll take her. -S'lright, Malfoy. Trust me. She's my partner too."

Draco smirked, reluctantly handing her off to Thomas. It was a far better choice than to hand her off to Diggle; that was for sure. "I'll come check on you in a little while," He told her. She nodded, coughed, and allowed Dean to carry her away out of the room. When the door shut behind them, Diggle was the first to speak.

"What happened in there?"

"She told you. Lightning strike. It hit the desk." He offered the broom out to Diggle. "Here's your desk."

"I wondered where that went." Diggle reached out and took the broom. "I suppose I should congratulate you three. You're the first to arrive out of the illusion." His voice was anything but supportive. In fact, Draco noted the crisp way in how he spoke, as if he were thoroughly disappointed that Draco had passed another trial. "I have to wait here for the others. Will you please tell Hermione I'll come see her as soon as I'm done?"

Draco cocked an arrogant eyebrow. "If the mood suits me, _sir_." He turned to leave, but Diggle's words held him back.

"You think I don't see it, but I do. I've seen the way you look at her."

Draco looked over his shoulder. "What?"

"It's written all over your arrogant face," Diggle said, a coolness settling in his throat as he spoke. "You fancy her."

"I'm sure I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about."

"Just so we're clear, she's dating _me_."

Draco smirked, turning back to him. "Should we just whip out our cocks right here and determine whose is larger?"

"She'll never like someone like you," said Diggle, ignoring his quip, "because she's got sense and sensibility. You think anyone could really look past that Mark?"

Draco glanced down to his covered arm, then back up to Diggle. "I was married, you know."

"Yes. _Was_." He put strain on the word. "Remember your place, Malfoy. Just because the Ministry turns a blind eye to your actions doesn't mean I have. Hermione says I should trust you, but I want to make it very, _very_ clear. I _don't_."

"You're so clear, it's crystal."

"It's crystal _what_?"

He rolled his eyes. " _Sir_." Draco turned away, purposefully strutting to the door with his arrogant Malfoy walk. He jerked the door open, glared at Greg Diggle, and slammed the door thoroughly. His heart was racing, and his rage was hardened. He thrust his fist out and punched the wall next to him, hearing his knuckle crack under the pressure.

Victory had never hurt so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO! Extra long chapter! But full of plot! What do you think? Do you think Cane was really there? Do you think Diggle was right out of line? (BC HE TOTALLY WAS)
> 
> Thoughts?  
> A.


	18. Star Worlds?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special shoutout to MissPancake for beta reading this entire chapter for me and finding my sloppy writer fixes. Sometimes my fingers get ahead of my brain. I am so happy to have found someone to take the time to help me give this story the attention it deserves. Thank you again! *huggles*

**_And I can't, I can't, I can't remember_ **

**_Just how to forget, forget the way_ **

**_That we danced, we danced_ **

**_To Danzig, and we danced, we danced_ **

**_And when you ask, you ask me how I'm doing_ **

**_Like you know, you know how much better off I am_ **

**_And when we danced, we danced_ **

**_With windows down, and we danced, we danced_ **

**_~"Favorite Record" by Fall Out Boy_ **

* * *

"I really don't think Diggle meant it when he told us to watch this 'Star Worlds'," Draco said gruffly, his hand wrapped in a bandage as he and Hermione lay propped up against the throw pillows in her bed. His arm was draped around her loosely, while her head settled across his chest. She had been released a few hours after her admission into the Ministry infirmary with clear instructions not to do any strenuous exercise while the potion she'd received did its job healing her strained muscles. She had been told that she was lucky it was only simulated lightning; if it had been the real deal, she might have been burned quite badly.

"It's called 'Star Wars'," she corrected him as the DVD coursed through previews. "And you don't know that he didn't actually mean it."

"You just want an excuse to be around me," Draco quipped.

"Perhaps." She wrapped an arm around his stomach and hugged him lightly. "Besides, if we're to be friends then you need to be open to more muggle things."

"Hmph." He rolled his eyes. "You keep using that word."

"Which word?"

"Friends." He tilted his face down to look at her. "I don't think you know what that word actually means."

"It means we care about what happens to one another."

"Yes, well, being 'friends' usually excludes those of a sexual nature."

She ignored him as the menu title came on, trying desperately not to talk about it. She knew that they would have to talk about Friday night sooner or later - but this wasn't it. If they talked about it… they would have to label it. And with his divorce only finalized weeks ago and her 'dating' Diggle… it didn't seem appropriate. Why couldn't he just enjoy what he had with her in the moment?

She pressed the play button and the beginning credits started.

"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…" Draco read out loud, thoroughly entranced. "Well, that's specific."

"Shhhh…"

"Why does it say this is episode four?"

"Because it's episode four."

"What happened to one, two and three?"

"Those came after."

"They came after?" He jerked upright. "Does this muggle," He held up the sleeve and read the cover, "George Lucas not know how to count?"

"Looks like you've found your calling as a movie critic. You're missing valuable information."

"This story makes absolutely no sense. Why do you need to set up a dialogue for us to understand what's happening? Shouldn't they be showing us that?"

Hermione reached up and paused the movie with the remote. "Are you quite done?"

Draco smirked. "Hardly."

The doorbell rang.

"Bloody Hell." He threw his head back against the pillows. "If that's Diggle I swear to Merlin…"

"Wait here." She rose from the bed slowly, taking into account the heat that spread over her as her muscles worked to listen. The bed had been so comfortable, but she couldn't have Draco answer the door. Especially if it were Greg on the other side of it. She left Draco in the quiet bedroom, shutting the door firmly and padding her way to the door. When she pulled it open, she found Harry holding a crockpot full of what smelled like beef stew. "Harry!" She exclaimed, surprised. "What - what are you doing here?"

"Diggle told me you got injured in the trial simulation." He held up the pot. "And Ginny insisted I bring you sustenance."

"That's… rather nice of you."

Harry stepped inside. "On the counter, then?"

"Erm… yes. That'd be great. You really don't have to stay. I'm fine, really."

"Expecting company?" He raised an eyebrow.

Embarrassment spread over her as panic began to set in. She was sure Harry would blow a gasket if he knew about Hermione and Draco's… whatever was going on between them. But she didn't much like the idea of hiding it from him either. Especially if things did turn out alright. Harry seemed to notice her apprehension, because he tensed up.

"Everything alright, Mione?" He reached for his wand. "What's going on? Are you in trouble?"

Her eyes went wide. "What! Oh! Oh, no? I… It's not quite like… You see…" Her eyes nervously flittered over to the door - Harry noticed. He stalked his way across the room, Hermione on his heels. "No - Harry, really. I'm not in trouble. I promise - stop, Harry -!"

He jerked the door open. Draco was sprawled across the bed, reading the back cover of a DVD. He glanced up as Harry's face fell into some sort of mixture between horror and confusion. He quickly glanced back to Hermione, then over to Draco and back to her again. "What… is Malfoy… doing in your bedroom?"

"Watching Star Worlds," Draco replied.

"Wars," She corrected him. "And it's not what you think, Harry. We're just watching a movie." She gestured to the paused TV display. "Greg assigned us to watch it as homework."

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't serious," said Draco, sitting upright. He scratched the back of his head, stretched and nodded in Harry's direction. "Potter."

Harry looked as if he were fighting back a string of obscenities. "Malfoy."

"Harry brought soup!" Hermione said, attempting to alleviate the tension.

"What kind?" Draco asked.

"…Beef and potatoes," replied Harry. He glanced down to his wand and quickly stowed it away. "Sorry about that… I thought Hermione might be in trouble."

"Guess you thought wrong then. Course, that's nothing new for you, is it, Potter?" Draco stood up and bumped shoulders with Harry as he past him. "I'm hungry. Anyone else?"

* * *

Hermione, Draco, and Harry sat around Hermione's small dining room table, soups still steaming. Draco ate the most enthusiastically, spooning the beef in particular out and chewing politely with his Malfoy manners. Harry had a potato and carrot slice on his spoon, but it hovered above his bowl, never quite reaching his lips. Hermione's hands were tucked delicately in her lap, afraid to move. Never in a million years did she think that she would see Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy break bread together.

"So…" she said to Harry, "This soup is lovely."

"You haven't even tried it," Draco retorted.

"I'm sorry… what's going on here?" Harry sat his spoon down in his soup. "I know you two have been training together, but are you two really chums now?"

"I wouldn't quite say chums," said Draco, raising a suggestive eyebrow to Hermione, who blanched. "I mean, Hermione says we are, but I think that's still up for debate."

"Hermione?" Harry croaked. "You call her Hermione now?"

"People evolve, Potter. You should try it sometime."

"What Draco means to say, Harry," Hermione jumped in, "Is that Draco's points of views on the world has since changed, and we're both over the animosity. We're friends now."

"Yes… friends…" muttered Draco. "You want to jump on this bandwagon as well, Potter? I'm sure there's plenty of room."

"I'd imagine so. Not a lot of people want to be friends with you lately?" Harry chided. "Can't imagine why."

"Harry!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. This is a lot to take in."

Hermione nudged Draco under the table. "You should tell him."

Draco looked confused a moment before he understood - she was talking about being her source. It was his turn to blanch white, and he glared at her. "I told you, that's out of the question."

"What are you two going on about?" Harry looked between them.

Draco smirked. Uh oh. She had a bad feeling about his next words. She wasn't wrong. "Oh? You're right. Let's tell him about Friday night, shall we?"

"No!"

"What?"

"Yes, Hermione's shower is quite nice after a long day training, wouldn't you quite agree, Granger?"

Hermione slammed her hands on the table and stood up. "If you're quite through!" She snatched up his bowl without asking and dumped it out into the sink. Harry sat there, baffled and confused, perhaps not wanting to put the pieces together or maybe he already had and chose not to dwell on it. Either way, his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

An owl pecked on Hermione's kitchen window, startling the three.

"Now what?" Hermione sighed.

"That's Astoria's owl," Draco said, rising from the table. He walked to the window, opened it, and allowed a fluffy red-tipped owl with big, yellow eyes to perch on the back of his now vacant chair. There was a scroll tied neatly to its leg. Draco gave the owl a firm pet before taking the scroll and reading it to himself.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked. The fact that Astoria had written Draco came as a bit of surprise - she didn't think they had talked much since their divorce, with the exception of Scorpius, of course. Perhaps that is what this pertained to? By the look on Draco's face it was hard to tell.

"She wants to see me…" He stared down at the letter, his face unreadable. "I should go."

"Really? Now?" Hermione asked, her stomach dropping. She didn't know how bad it would feel to know what it would be like for Draco to walk out on her until this moment. It might be simple parental communication, but that also reminded her that Astoria would always be a part of Draco's life. They were connected by a tiny bundle of unlimited giggles and Draco's solid grey eyes. A lump formed in her throat. She felt so ridiculous for the jealous rush that set in her bones.

"I shouldn't be gone long," he assured her, moving to hug her or perhaps even kiss her. But he caught himself, eyes trailing over to Harry, and his arms stayed slack against his sides. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Alright…"

He grabbed up his blazer, which had been set across the back of Hermione's recliner, and gave a nod to Harry. "Take care of her, Potter."

"I always have," Harry replied, more baffled still. Draco walked over to Hermione, patted her on the head, and left. When he was gone, Harry turned towards her, mouth slack. "There anything you want to tell me, Hermione?"

"Nope!" She smiled, sitting back down on the table. This time she picked up her spoon and began to scoop lukewarm potatoes from the bowl. "Come, Harry. Don't let your supper get cold."

* * *

As Draco walked up the steps of the Greengrass Estate, he couldn't help but feel the nervous tension that beckoned him at the thought of seeing Astoria again. Tori had given Scorpius to her mother for the exchanges, and this would be their first encounter since… well, since that night in St. Mungo's. He fought back a bit of vomit burning the back of his throat and knocked on the thick, white door carved with intricate designs of Birch trees.

The door swung open a few moments later, Astoria on the other side, Scorpius in her arms. She pursed her lips at the sight of Draco, but held back her contempt long enough to say, "Hello, Draco."

She looked better than she had in years. She wore a thick, plum lipstick that accented her pale skin, and her eyes glistened with fire he hadn't seen in her since they first met. "I received your owl," he said, tucking his arms behind his back,. "You said it was urgent."

"Yes." She opened the door further. "Come in."

"May I hold him?" Draco asked, nudging to Scorpius. Astoria offered him out, and Draco untucked his hands, much to his relief, to take his son. When he had him tucked in his arms, he followed her inside to the grand den. It had been a while since he had been here - perhaps since before they were married. Dinners with family were usually held at the Malfoy Manor. Draco took a chair across from the divan that Astoria took, tension rising in his already exhausted muscles. The second trial had taken a lot out of him, as did his exchange with Diggle. He had planned to tell Hermione about the exchange, but she had looked so beaten that he told himself he'd do it later. Let her have a few hours of happiness. He could only imagine how happy she'd be if he brought Scorpius back over with him. "What's this about, Astoria?"

"This." She already had a letter tucked into her hand. She stood and offered it out to him. Draco raised an eyebrow, took the envelope, and Astoria sat back down across the room from him. He glanced over the red, broken seal. He didn't recognize it, but it had two wands crossed in an X. "I received it an hour ago."

Draco scooted Scorpius to sit up across his chest and utilized his hands to untuck the parchment from the envelope. Scorpius made to take the paper, and Draco chuckled, raising it out of his reach. His chuckle died away, however, when he saw what was on the inside. In red, scribbled writing were two words, repeated over and over again.

**' Found you'**

It then dawned on Draco that it was written in blood. He threw the paper onto the floor, horrified.

"My reaction as well," Astoria said coldly, crossing her arms.

"Have you taken this to the Ministry?" Draco whispered.

"I promised I would hold your secrets. No. I haven't." Astoria's eyes were fierce, yet determined. "He's back, isn't he? This Bastian Cane?"

Draco gulped, nodding slowly. "I think so."

"I can't live like this, Draco." Astoria scrunched up her face, suddenly trading her cool demeanor for tears. She batted them away, frustrated. "This is the exact reason I left you. And if he knows where we are now…"

"Tori." Draco stood, Scorpius with him, and joined her on the couch, slipping their son into her arms and wrapping his arms around her. "I won't let anything happen to you two. You have my vow."

There was solid fear in Draco's heart. If there were any doubts that Cane had really been in his simulation, they had disappeared. Even if no one else believed him, he knew that Cane had spoken to him. And he had promised just this, hadn't he? That he would come after Draco's family? He gripped Astoria tighter. Even if things were done between them, it didn't mean his love for her had snuffed out. He would always hold a candle for his first great love.

"I think I should take Scorpius out of the country," she whispered.

"What?" No. "Tori, be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable." She untucked her head from his chest to look up at him with her big, wet eyes. "You can't just expect us to stay here with all that's going on."

"Come back to the Manor," he offered.

"I can't." She shook her head. "Don't you think he'd find us there as well? Anywhere you are, destruction is sure to follow."

Her words slapped him in the face. He dropped his head, fighting back the shakes that racked his body. Think. He needed to think. Where could they be that would be safe?

His head jerked back up, and he stood. "Where is your parchment?" He crossed the room to the desk and found a bit of parchment and an ink quill.

"What are you doing?" Astoria asked him.

"There's one place I know that will be safe," he told her, writing as quickly as he could. "I won't lose you two. You'll be safe, I promise."

* * *

Hermione opened her door nervously, taking in the sight of Astoria, Draco and Scorpius all together on her front doorstep.

"Astoria," she said, biting back the anxiety that filled her. "Welcome. You and Scorpius are welcome to stay as long as you'd like."

"Thank you for this," Draco whispered as Astoria brushed past Hermione into her front door, "This is… you're amazing."

"Yes. I know. You owe me." She bit at her nails as she shut the front door, leaving her and Draco outside alone. "This is…"

"I know." He told her. "Really. But if Diggle and Cane are working together…"

"And Greg fancies me, this really is the safest place. No, you're right." she nodded. "I'm fine with it. Honestly."

"Hermione." Draco reached down and took her hand. "I can't thank you enough."

"Well, I get to see Scorpius a bit more. How could I say no to that?" She smiled, but it was a lonely one. Draco reached up and tipped her head up to meet his eyes.

"You're an amazing person, Hermione Granger. And I don't deserve your friendship."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well… I suppose you owe me then." She smiled sweetly to him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Besides, we didn't finish the movie. Do you think Astoria would be willing to watch it too?"

Draco cracked a smile. "Not on your life."

Hermione giggled, turning to go back inside, but Draco caught her arm to stop her.

"And… one more thing…" He swallowed hard. "Write to Potter."

"Harry? Why?"

"Because… I think it's time I come clean." He nodded to himself. "If Cane is really back, I can't afford to hide what I know. The Ministry is going to need all of the information they can get."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooooooowwwww. Astoria is staying with Hermione. Talk about awkward.


	19. Fish, Chips, & Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss Pancake has since edited this chapter for me! Yay! She is quite awesome.

* * *

**Sometimes you've got to bleed to know,**   
**That you're alive and have a soul,**   
**But it takes someone to come around to show you how.**

**She's the tear in my heart, I'm alive,**   
**She's the tear in my heart, I'm on fire,**   
**She's the tear in my heart, Take me higher,**   
**Than I've ever been.**

-"Tear In My Heart" by Twenty One Pilots

* * *

"Astoria!" Hermione knocked firmly on the bathroom door. "Astoria, really! I need to be to work soon!" The sound of a shower turning on did nothing for Hermione's foul mood. Draco's ex-wife had insisted on taking the bedroom if she were to stay 'in such a drab, muggle home', and Hermione had agreed willingly, but this… this was her bathroom. Hermione had a routine. Get up. Make a cup of tea. Read the morning Quibbler. Take a shower. Go to work. And besides, if Astoria ever knew what she and Draco had done in that bathroom, she might never want to set foot in there again.

Draco walked through the door, Scorpius slung over one arm, a bagel in the other. He had insisted on sleeping on the recliner last night to 'ensure the peace' for their first evening. Hermione had taken the couch. It had been an evening chock full of awkward silence and heated glances. "You might as well give up. She won't be out by the time we have to go."

"This is all… oh, give me the baby!" Hermione stole Scorpius from Draco's grasp and kissed him on the nose. "You're the only saving grace in this Hell filled morning."

"I'm right here, you know," Draco scoffed, taking another bite of his bagel. He tore off a piece and put it to Hermione's lips. She shook her head, but he insisted, and she opened her mouth. He placed the bagel bite on her tongue, brushed his thumb over her lower lip, and gave a wink. "Still a Hell filled morning?"

She chewed and swallowed. "Yes."

He rolled his eyes, strolling over to the bathroom door to give it a harsh rasp of his bruised knuckles. "Tori! Really now, this is a bit out of line! It's Granger's bathroom!"

The way he called her Granger didn't set right with Hermione. It was one thing when he did it in front of the class, when Greg would be watching and they had parts to play, but here in the intimacy of her own home in front of his ex-wife, it felt as if he were trying to hide them. And maybe he was. They weren't official, after all. And that had been her own fault. Or had it? What if the reason he wanted to talk it over was to ensure that they wouldn't put a label on it? What if he was nowhere near over Astoria like she had hoped? Hermione herself was on a completely different step of grief, almost at the top of the stairs, while Draco was only on step one or two. And then the worst question asked itself; what if his attraction for Hermione was all a rebound?

She gripped Scorpius tighter to her. "Come on, love. Let's go into the kitchen."

"Are you talking to me?"

"The baby, Draco! The baby." She sniffed Scorpius's soft hair, relishing in the smell of baby soap and prominent infant smell. "He's really the only reason I put up with you, you know."

"Quite…" Draco smirked. Hermione and Scorpius took their leave to the hallway, passing the pictures Hermione hung on the walls for decoration. She stopped at one in particular and raised Scorpius up to eye level to show him. "Those are my parents." She pointed to a taller gentleman with a clean shaven face, short, auburn hair that was thinning, and a large nose. "That's my dad. He looks a bit fierce, but he's a softy. And that," she moved her finger over to a shorter woman with curly brown hair and the same smile as her own. "That's my mum. She's a pistol, so watch out."

"History lesson?" Draco asked from the doorway. She hadn't heard him approach.

"Just thought I'd show him that muggles weren't all throwing witches into ovens."

He smiled, crossing the hall to stand beside her. "What are their names? I don't think I've ever asked you that."

"That's my Father, Jean. And my Mum is Helena."

"You look like her mirror image."

"The same could be said about you and your father. And Scorpius with you."

"History always finds a way of repeating itself," he mused. "What do they do? As a profession?"

"They're dentists. Muggles don't have spells to preserve teeth and that's what they help with."

"Ever thought about going into the profession yourself?"

"Hardly."

They could hear the pipes squeal as Astoria turned the shower off. Hermione sighed, trudging her way on to the living room. "I feel completely grimy. Could she not have waited until after I'd left for work?"

"She's like a cat. She'll assert her dominance in your household until you either push her off the counter or concede. Believe me. I lived with her."

"And what did you do?"

"I learned to use the guest bathrooms."

"Oh joy. We're going to be late for training. We can't just leave Scorpius alone in the living room while we wait for her to primp herself."

"This isn't a magical moonlit stroll for me either," said Astoria, walking into the room in nothing but a towel. Her wet hair draped over her shoulder like a waterfall, and her breasts were barely covered by the plush towel that was much too little to wrap around comfortably. She gave a long stretch, pulling the towel up her thighs. Hermione glared when she caught Draco staring. "The bathroom's all yours, dear." Astoria offered out her hands to take Scorpius.

"I won't have time now," Hermione grumbled as she set Scorpius in his mother's arms. "But thank you."

Astoria glanced over to Draco and smiled. "You're letting the fairies into your mouth, Draco dear."

He snapped his mouth shut, eyes narrowed. "Come, Granger. We have work." He kissed his son atop of his head, purposefully dragging his face close to Astoria's. Hermione wanted to vomit until she saw the smirk that pulled up his lips when Astoria's face tinted pink. "Have a pleasant day, Astoria." He picked up his work robes from the back of the sofa and approached Hermione's fireplace. "Granger. Now."

"Right." Hermione went to the closet, pulled out her set of work robes, and jogged over to Draco's side. They both stepped into the floo and it was Draco to speak. "Ministry of Magic." His hand slipped around her waist. When they landed in a Ministry approved floo in the entrance hall, he dropped his arm and stepped out first. "That woman loves mind games."

"Yes… and apparently you do too." She scowled at him, shrugging on her robes. She noticed his face fall into concern but ignored it, dodging her head low and brushing past him. "We have an appointment with Harry at two. Don't be late."

"Hermione… oh, come on! Hermione!" He called to her, but she didn't stop to wait for him. She found the elevators and slipped inside just as they closed. Her chest ached and her breathing was shallow. This feeling that overcame her tried its best to tear her reasonable demeanor to shreds. She didn't know how hard this would be. And she didn't want to think what would happen if Astoria decided that she couldn't live without her white-blonde ex. Because she got the terrible feeling Draco would be reeled back in just like the fish that Hermione and her father used to catch every Saturday morning at the lake near their house.

* * *

"Hello Miss Granger," Greg greeted her as she came into the classroom. He already had set pop quizzes on everyone's tables, face down. Hermione approached her desk at the front, trying to act as if Draco and Astoria's tit for tat had done nothing to hurt her for her self-esteem.

"Hello Auror Diggle," She replied with a smile. It was hard to force, but she did her best. Greg seemed to notice, because he quirked a sideways look at her and set down his quill.

"Something wrong, Hermione?"

The room was quite empty aside from them. Hermione decided that to gain Diggle's trust, she should attempt conversation. "I just ran behind this morning, is all. There was a rat in my bathroom."

"Heaven's bells." Greg's eyes went wide. Draco entered the room and a fog of tension thickened the air. He approached their desk slowly, avoiding eyes from both the others. "Good morning, Malfoy."

"Sir," Draco muttered, setting down his book bag. He gave Hermione a firm nod, still avoiding her eyes, and took his seat.

"Hermione," Said Greg, pulling her attention back. "Would you like to have lunch together today?"

Oh lord. Hermione's mouth went slack for a moment, completely taken aback by the offer. She coughed, rubbed her throat, and said, "Well, Auror Diggle… it would be a bit informal, wouldn't it?" She had hoped Diggle wouldn't dare bring this up in front of everyone, so either he was very thick or trying to defy her requests for purposes unknown. She saw out of the corner of her eye Draco's knuckles clench the edge of the desk.

"Oh, as friends of course," Greg smiled. "Malfoy, would you like to join us?"

Draco's eyes flickered up to Diggle, heated with fury. She knew Draco was jealous of Diggle, but she was sure she was missing something. He took in a heavy breath, released it, and shook his head. "No, sir. Thank you."

"I can't either," Hermione said quickly. "I already have lunch plans."

Diggle's smile dropped. "Oh?"

"Yes. With Harry. We're going to be visiting Ron's grave today during lunch." She sat down next to Draco, brushing knees. He shifted, turning in his chair to avoid her contact. "But thank you."

"Tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow, yes."

She tucked her head down, pulled out a pencil from her bag, and awaited class to start in awkward silence. Today just wasn't her day, indeed.

* * *

Lunch time finally came around, and Hermione left first, as to not draw attention to the fact that her and Draco were both in fact leaving to the same place. When she made it to the elevators, she gave a heavy sigh. Class had been terrible. She had barely passed her exam with a ninety three percent! This tension between Draco and her was going to need to be resolved. But it didn't help that his ex-wife now occupied the only comfortable bed in Hermione's house and that there was hardly a moment that she would have Draco alone to herself. Not that she wanted him alone again… no… yes.. wait. What was going on in her mind lately?

She couldn't deny the attraction she felt towards him, especially after Friday night. But she was an adult and sometimes sex was just that: sex. It had been fifteen years of anger and hatred turned into an unbridled moment of passion. 'Sexual tension' as Draco called it. But why now? She had always put stock in kind, gentle men like Ron, and now all she could think about was an arrogant, self-proclaimed prat with soft lips and an arse that - Oh, stop thinking this way, Hermione! Get your head together!

Even though her elevator landed just minutes after her departure from class, Draco had managed to make it to the entrance hall first, smirking as he caught her eyes across the bustling room. He stepped into a floo, said something that she couldn't hear, and disappeared in a burst of green flames. She found a floo nearby, grabbed up a bit of powder, and whispered into the flames. She arrived in an outdoor floo located at the entrance of Hogsmeade. Draco was already waiting for her, leaned up against a brick wall across from the floo.

"Hello," he said, though his face was stern.

"Hi," she said crisply, stepping out of the fireplace and brushing herself off. "Do you think Greg bought it?"

"I dare say he's not going to stalk you at your dead husband's grave just to see if you're telling the truth. Not unless he was a real nutter."

"Look, Draco, about earlier…"

"Yes, what was that about?"

"Really? You have to ask?"

"I'm just curious what bunched up your undergarments."

"Well, if you don't know, I'm certainly not going to tell you!" Hermione started to walk towards The Three Broomsticks, where she was to meet with Harry. "Just drop the subject."

"Fine. Are you really going to have lunch with Diggle tomorrow?"

"And if I am?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks and Hermione slowed her pace. He took in a deep breath. "He's just trying to rub it in my face, you know."

"Hmm? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that your pretend boyfriend suspects your real one."

She nearly tripped over a cobblestone as she halted. Her back was turned to him, and she was thankful because if she were turned around he might have seen the way her eyes widened to a point of comic relief. Had she just heard what she thought she had? Did he honestly infer to himself as… her… oh, no. It wasn't possible.

Hermione kept her back to him as she replied in her best casual tone, "I don't have a boyfriend, pretend or not, Draco. Come on, Harry is waiting for us."

She didn't turn around to see if he followed her or not, but she wasn't going to any time soon. She knew that there were feelings harbored deep, deep down inside of her heart for Draco Malfoy. But to label them… wasn't that what she had wanted? To know that he had wanted it too?

"Hermione…" Draco said behind her, his long fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back. She was forced to turn around, but her eyes fell to their feet to avoid his gaze. "You're going to have to talk about Friday eventually."

"I know." She nodded, staring at her trainers. "But with all that's going on, I do not think this is the best time to talk about it."

"When, then?"

"I don't know…"

"Dinner, then." He rubbed her palm with his thumb. "Saturday night. We can have dinner at my home and discuss… things."

"I don't know…"

"It's just dinner, Granger." He released her hand from his, defeated. "I understand if this is too much for you. It's a lot for me to process too. But you're not alone in this, and you should stop acting like you are."

"What did you mean… when you said Diggle was trying to rub our lunch plans in your face?" She finally brought her gaze up to his. He looked torn, as if he were trying to make an impossible decision by telling her.

"After the trial, he said some things…"

"What sort of things?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Whatever Diggle says matters. If he threatened you -"

"It's nothing like that." He shook his head. An elderly witch with shoe boxes past between them, and Draco backed up a few paces. His face hardened. "He might have said that he knows I fancy you."

"He did?" Hermione furrowed her brows. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were injured, and you looked so happy talking about your stupid muggle film and… I didn't want to ruin it. Because believe it or not, I do care about your happiness. Bloody Hell, I never thought I'd hear that come out of my mouth."

"Did he say anything else?"

"Oh, the usual cock strut. That you're his and that I'm to lay my Death Eater mitts off if I have any sense."

"That's a threat, Draco." Hermione couldn't believe he wouldn't share something like this with her. "We're supposed to confide in each other. You shouldn't have hidden this from me."

He shrugged. "I was going to tell you. Guess this was a good of time as any."

"Well, he's wrong." Hermione found a new confidence in her as she stepped closer, lessening the space between them. "I'm not his. And don't you dare believe it for a moment."

"He's not wrong about everything." Draco retracted from her. "It's funny, you know? I'm a Malfoy. I have money. I have status, though it's tarnished. I used to could quite literally have my pick of the field. And because of one mistake, it's all trashed. And I'm not saying I wouldn't have picked you out of the bunch from the beginning, you know. Because I would have… if things had been different." She knew he meant her blood status, and it pained her. He tucked his arms behind his back and tilted his head off to the side to watch the Hogsmeade traffic. Anything to avoid her eyes. "You're intelligent. You can hold your own in any battle. You're a warrior and yet… there's a softer side of you. One that sees the good in everyone, even when there's nothing good to be had." His laugh that followed was empty. "And you're beautiful. Not just physically, but your soul… Diggle was correct; you're a perfect balance of sense and sensibility."

"Draco…" She stepped closer again, reaching out and placing a hand on his chest before he had a chance to back away. "Don't put me on a pedestal. I'm also bossy, meticulous, hard headed and strong willed. Sounds a lot like someone else I know, actually." She reached up, turned his face towards her, and smiled. "I don't know where we go from here. But I do know this - I don't want to go forward on my own without you in my life. You're very important to the fabric of my reality." She patted his cheek. "Try not to tear a hole in that, alright?" He looked worn, but he forced a smile and nodded. "Good. Now, wait here. Come inside in about five minutes, alright?" She leaned up, kissed him on the lips, noting the hesitant way he kissed her back. "And dinner on Saturday sounds lovely."

She took notice of the beaming smile he had when she left him to enter The Three Broomsticks.

"Alright, Hermione, what's this all about?" Harry asked as Hermione approached him in the corner table of the lofty pub. "Your letter said you had some information about Cane. What happened? Did Diggle let anything slip?"

"No." She took a seat across from him, shrugging off her work robes. "It's nothing like that I'm afraid. Auror Diggle's lips are sealed shut as of this moment."

"Then what?"

"You told me that if I wanted you to take me seriously about my information on Cane, I should give you my source. Well, it so happens that Cane threatened his family. And he wants to come forward."

Harry's face lit up. "Well that's brilliant! Where is he?"

"Outside." Hermione placed her hands on the table and folded her hands together. "But you won't meet him unless you do something for me first."

"Anything, Hermione. Name it."

"You're to pardon him of any crimes he might confess to you in the following conversation, and any others to follow."

His face dropped. "You know I can't do that."

"I'm dating one of the biggest toe rags this side of the equator to obtain information for you. And as such, you promised me a favor. Anything I want. This is what I want."

Harry internally struggled with her request. His face scrunched up, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Has your source murdered anyone?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"…Fine." He took off his glasses, rubbed them against his robes, and placed them back on his face. "But this is your one favor. You understand that?"

"Perfectly." She grinned, rising from her seat. She went to the door, opened it, and said, "Alright. You can come in now."

* * *

Draco twitched, surprised by Hermione as she emerged from the pub. "You can come in now." He wasn't entirely sure he still wanted to this, but he thought of the note sent to Astoria tucked in his pocket and found his resolve. He followed her into the building and the face that Potter made was definitely worth every moment. Harry Potter looked as if he were about to have a heart attack as Draco approached the table, pulled over a chair and took a seat. Hermione followed, noticing her friend's horrified expression and patted him on the arm. "It's alright, Harry. I know this might be a bit of a shock…"

"Malfoy?" Potter growled. "Why is it every time there's a big bad in this world, Draco Malfoy is involved? Please, Hermione. Tell me this isn't your source."

"I don't like to lie, Harry."

Potter turned his green eyes on Draco contemptibly. "You're Hermione's source."

"Looks that way," Draco said, reaching over the table and stealing Potter's drink out from under him. He took a sip of the frothy foam and smirked. "I'd like some fish and chips, if it's all the same. And a butterbeer."

"What?"

"You're going to buy me lunch, or I'm not saying a word." He chugged down the rest of Potter's drink and slammed the mug onto the table. "What will you be having, Hermione?"

"I'm not buying you a damn thing," Said Potter. "You're rich. Buy your own food."

"But I thought this was a lunch date?" Draco smirked. "And I don't know if I can recall of the details on an empty stomach."

Potter sighed, flagging down one of the waitresses. "Excuse me. My… associate would like the fish and chips, please. And three butterbeers for the table. Hermione, what do you want?"

"Oh… um… just some chips would be nice. Thank you."

The waitress smiled and walked away. Potter turned back to Draco, arms crossed. "Alright, Malfoy. You got what you wanted. So spill it."

"Not yet." Draco was having fun. It had been quite a long time since he could make the Harry Potter squirm. He was going to milk it for as long as he could. "How's the missus, Potter? I hear you're on baby number two."

Harry cast a sideways glance to Hermione. "You told him?"

"We're friends, Harry. I tell Draco a lot of things."

"Stop." Harry threw his hands up onto the table. "Just stop. You stop calling him Draco. You stop calling her Hermione. If Ron were here to see this…" He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. "He'd never believe it."

"But he isn't here, is he, Potter?" Draco said seriously, bringing his attention back around. "And because of that, you've got a mystery on your hands. One that is connected to Cane. Who is connected to me. So here we are." He spread his arms out wide and wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder, pulling her closer for show. Partially, he wanted to be next to her and the other half really just wanted to see Potter's eyebrows go up in a state of shock. Which they did. In fact, his entire face paled.

"You know…" He said after a moment. "It all makes a bit more sense now."

"What do you mean, Harry?" asked Hermione, brushing Draco's arm off of her, but he put it around her again, tighter. She gave up with a roll of her eyes.

"Well… when I found Malfoy in your bedroom yesterday, I thought that there might have been something going on between you two. But if he's your source, then it makes sense why you were spending so much time together alone. I mean… for a moment… I thought…" He laughed. "But that's just rubbish. You two wouldn't possibly be interested in…" He read Hermione's blushed cheeks and Draco's unabashed smirk. "…each other… blimey." He closed his eyes. "Hermione… please, tell me nothing's happened between you two."

"You know how she doesn't like to lie, Potter."

Hermione elbowed Draco in the side. It was worth it to see Potter nearly fall out of his chair as he attempted to get a grip on reality. "Hermione! He's Malfoy! He's a…" Draco braced for the words 'Death Eater'. "A Malfoy!" Well, that wasn't quite what he expected.

"And just what's wrong with me being a Malfoy?" Draco jutted out his chin.

"Aside from your entire family being pompous, egotistical, self-centered… jerks! Oh I don't know!"

"Harry." Hermione scolded. "You're making a scene."

The waitress came back by, dropping off their drinks. Potter grabbed up his and in an instant began to down the entire mug until it was gone.

"Don't you have work in an hour?"

"Just… give me a moment."

They sat in silence until the food arrived. Draco scooted Hermione her plate and sat one of his fish fillets on her plate. "You shouldn't just eat chips. Protein, Hermione. Protein."

"Alright," said Potter. "You've got what you want. Tell me about Cane. How do you know him?"

"Before I tell you, you have to promise me you're not going to throw me in Azkaban."

"Hermione's already backed me into a corner on that one."

"Really?" He turned his head to her. "You did that for me?"

"You're dragging this out," Hermione said. "Just get on with it, Draco."

"Alright." He picked up a fish fillet and bit into it. He chewed and swallowed before he continued. "Cane hired me to look into something called a Pandora Stone. Its magic works in the same way as that thing that attacked Diagon Alley. It's called a Pandora Box. They both steal magical energy and hoard it."

"A Pandora Stone." Potter crossed his arms. "I've never heard of it. Hermione?"

"I haven't either. It's not in any of my textbooks I've ever come across. But Draco's shared some memories with me, Harry. It's real."

"So Cane hired you to… what? Analyse it?"

"And to apply some of my magical theories in order to reproduce it's magical properties. He told me he believed that the stone held the secret to removing a Dark Mark."

Draco waited for Potter's reaction. He was surprised when Potter reached into his pocket and began to scribble down notes. "Alright. Go on. Describe this stone."

"Blue. About the size of a pebble. Gives off a bit of a glow. I've only ever seen one. Cane says it's the literal magic from the myth of the Pandora's Box."

"How did he obtain it?"

"I have no clue."

"What does he want to do with it?"

"Well… he claimed it was to protect muggles. That's why your most wanted wizards are missing." Draco pointed a chip Potter's way. "He used them for experiments."

"And were you involved in those experiments…?" Potter looked up from his notes.

Draco felt the apprehension set in. This was something that he hadn't discussed with Hermione previously, and he knew he was going to be in hot water for avoiding it like the plague. There were still many skeletons in his closet that he feared sharing. But this was for Scorpius, he told himself. He needed to confess his sins. All of them. "I conducted every one of them."

"What kind of experiments were they?"

He suddenly lost his appetite, scooting his food over to Hermione, avoiding her stare. "Vile ones. Ones that would strip layers of magic off the soul. Painful ones." He gulped. "I-It might just be better if I showed you. I could put some of my memories in a pensieve."

"You would do that?" Potter asked, raising his eyebrows.

"The sod threatened my ex-wife and son. I'd do anything to protect them." He pulled out the letter and set it on the table. "Do you recognize this seal?"

"Not off the top of my head," Potter replied, picking up the envelope to look over the seal. When he was done, he unfolded the parchment inside, eyes widening. "You think this was Cane?"

"I know it was." Draco leaned forward. "He approached me in the second Auror trial."

"Draco, we've been over this," said Hermione, "It was just your fear setting in."

"How did he approach you?" asked Potter, very seriously. It was a relief that he would take Draco's words to heart without dismissing them.

"It was a simulation. I'm not sure if he was physically there, but I know he was there in spirit. And before you tell me he wasn't, Hermione, I know for a fact he was." He shifted his eyes to Potter. "He wants the information I have in my head on the Pandora Stone. I was nearly complete replicating it on a grand scale. It's why he used one of my Mines in Diagon. To prove a point. He's dangerous. He'll do whatever he can to get the last pieces of the puzzle."

"So what happened in Diagon… why you ran inside…"

"It was to defuse the bomb. A bomb that I made - inadvertently. Cane added the bit where It blows up." He gestured a grand explosion with his hands before setting them back on the table.

"So what's Cane's motivation?"

"Muggles. He says he wants to protect them."

"Hermione said she thinks that's the connection between Diggle and Cane. Did you ever come across Diggle in any of your time with Cane?"

"Do you think if I did I'd be calling him 'sir'?" Draco scoffed. "He's possibly a pawn used to replace me after I threw away Cane's offer. Or maybe he's spying, looking for any information inside the Ministry."

"Tell him what you know about the powder," Hermione encouraged.

"How does he know about that?" Potter's eyes narrowed.

"We might… have stolen some files from your office…"

"You what?"

"Remember when you asked me why I would go out with a sod like Diggle in the first place?" She attempted a smile. "Well…"

"Hermione…! Come on. You stole from me?"

"Technically, I did." Draco interrupted. "But that's beside the point. When I was going through your files-"

"- Which is completely illegal."

"I discovered -"

"- Should have you arrested."

"That the powder found at Weasley's crime scene is Cane's own concoction of sleeping powder. Have your attention now, do I? Whatever happened to Weasley, Cane was definitely involved. It's how he caught all of his guinea pigs. It's a paralytic, giving Cane complete control of his victim. He can even physically will them to do things while under its effects. And before you ask me, I have no idea how he created it."

"So… Ron might have been controlled before he died?" Asked Harry. Draco nodded.

"You never told me this…" Hermione said quietly.

"If we're being completely honest, I didn't think it was relevant until now. I'm coming clean, remember?" He slid his hand over hers, brought it to his lips, and kissed her fingertips. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner."

"Don't do that." Potter grimaced. "Just… not in front of me, alright? What you two… do on your own time… I don't need to know any of it. Malfoy, you and I need to set up a time for you to come over and use my pensieve. I don't think it's wise to use the one at the Ministry. -Hermione, you'll need to keep Diggle busy while we do. We don't need him popping up at my house while Malfoy is over."

"Oh honestly…" Hermione rolled her eyes, though she looked a bit more down than before. Draco suspected his confessions probably didn't help that. "Alright. I'll speak with Greg."

"Just not on Saturday," Draco said, catching her eyes. "Right?"

"Again, I really don't want to know any of this." Potter, like a child, put his hands up to his ears. When he was sure that nothing else would be said, he stuffed his notes into his pockets, along with the envelope. "I'll check into this. See what information I can pull from it. You two better get back to the Ministry soon." He threw some money onto the table and stood. "And I'm sorry, Malfoy. But Saturday might be the only night I'm off."

"Fucks sakes…" Draco grumbled. He crossed his arms huffily as Potter nodded to Hermione before leaving. Hermione bit into one of her chips, contemplating. "Are you alright?"

"Yes…" She said quietly. "I'm just… taking it all in."

"You and me both. On a side note, we don't have to pretend around Potter anymore. That's something."

"We don't even know what we are to pretend to not be anything," she pointed out. "If I go out with Greg on Saturday, we can still have dinner together. It would just be after."

"So… you'd still like to?"

She smiled warmly to him. "Anything to relieve this awkward question brewing over our heads. -Would you like to invite Astoria as well? I'm sure she'd make a great accessory."

Draco's lips pursed. "Not funny."

"Well, neither is her gallivanting around in a towel in the early morning hours in front of my… whatever you are."

He smirked. "Green is a fetching color on you, Granger."

"I'm not jealous. I'm just sharing my thoughts."

"Which are jealous." He grabbed up his mug and sipped down half his butterbeer. "I'll see you back at the Ministry soon?"

"Yes." She nodded. Draco took the chance and leaned over, kissing her cheek. The pretty red that spread across her nose and cheeks was adorable. He chuckled, plucked a chip off of her plate, and left, unsure of where everything was headed. But one thing was for sure; a weight had been lifted off of his chest. He knew he was one step closer to redemption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your thoughts! *kisses*  
> A


	20. Mine and Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the by, MissPancake ROCKS MY TOE SOCKS. -I used to own all the toe socks. Anyone want to buy me a new pair so she can rock them?
> 
> Let's all give her a big shout out for editing/revising this story and saving me from some awkward mistakes. ;)

**No one wants you when you have no heart and**

**I'm sitting pretty in my brand new scars and**

**You'll never know if you don't ever try again**

**So let's try**

**Let's try**

**Let's try  
"Hallelujah" Panic at the Disco**

* * *

No matter how long he tossed and turned in his bed, Draco Malfoy couldn't find the will to fall asleep. Every time his eyelids closed, she was there behind them. Every time he opened them to stare at the ceiling, he heard her speaking his name as she stared at the constellation above his pillow. Hermione Granger was some of the best and worst company to keep.

Saturday was only a few nights away now, but he couldn't help feeling as if he needed it to be now. Maybe, he thought idly, he needed _her_ now. But he had promised 'just dinner'. His groin twitched as if to argue with him and he felt the blood leave his head when he thought of the last time it had been just them, alone, with all of his jealousy and frustration mucking about his callous heart. He cared about her. He knew that. But he also knew he wasn't doing a great job of keeping Tori at arm's length either. It was hard to do that when the last half of the decade had been spent courting her. Now he had Hermione Granger in his sights and of course there was Astoria, destroying any hope of future happiness he had.

Damn her. And her womanly curves. Stupid temptress. Astoria didn't really want him, he knew _that_. She was just trying to remind him of what he had lost. It was a game she played very well.

But Hermione wasn't about games, was she? She was curious, inquisitive, and wanted to get down to the point of it, just like him. So why, when he had throwing the 'B' word around, she hadn't taken the bait? Did she not want them to be in a relationship? Should he be thinking about a relationship at all? Cane was out to destroy him and everyone he loved - no, cared about. That was the better choice of words. _Care about, Draco. You don't love Hermione._

_But you have love for her._

_You care about her safety, her wellbeing. You want her to be happy, no matter what the outcome is for you. Have you ever felt that way, even for Astoria? Tori was a beautiful woman, yes, and she was what you needed when you felt as if no one else would look at you. But you've always been selfish, taking stock in your own feelings above her own. Can you say the same for Granger?_

_Love is something reserved for time. I can't be in love with anyone, can I? But still… fifteen years… there's bound to be some thicker feelings there…_

He sat upright in his bed, the aching between his legs growing with each memory of her. "Fuck sakes…" He jerked his legs over the bed, pulled out a bit of parchment from his nightstand, and began to write.

'My dearest Granger.'

No. That would never do. He crumpled the paper, tossed it in the corner, and pulled out another.

'Granger.'

Nope.

'Hermione.' Oh yes, that one was much better, 'Have I caught you while you're sleeping?' Well, that was idiotic. If he had caught her while she was sleeping, she wouldn't be much up for reading a note from him. Bollocks, he just need to be around her, not write an inspiring sonnet or dreary note. Damn it. If Tori wasn't there, he'd be sneaking into Granger's house to pull her undergarments off of her and tell her all of the naughty things he wanted to do to her _right now_.

That's when the idea came to him. Notes… yes… he rather liked the idea. He hadn't done a two-way parchment spell in quite a while. He pulled out two parchments and set to work. When he finished, he took off towards the owlry for Archimedes.

* * *

Hermione heard the tap-tap-tap on her window as it stirred her from her sleep. Groggily, she sat up from the couch, pulled off the scratchy blanket that she had draped around herself to read her book, and padded over in her pajamas to the kitchen window. Archimedes hooted gleefully at her.

"Shh…" She told him as she opened the window and offered her arm out. He landed carefully on it and rubbed against her shoulder with his feathered face. "Aww, thank you. Did you miss me?" She whispered. The owl hooted quietly. "I take it Draco can't sleep. Would you like some worms? I picked some up at the tackle shop the other day just for you." Archimedes hooted louder. "Shh! You'll wake the witch." She sat the beautiful owl on the counter and went over to the fridge to pull out her cup of worms. She grabbed up a bowl, poured them into it and sat them in front of the owl. "May I have the letter?" Archimedes hooted quietly as it offered out its leg. "Thank you." She unrolled the parchment and saw two words scribbled across the top.

'Hello, Hermione.'

"That's it?" She looked all around the paper for more, but nothing else was written. "He made you fly all the way here for this? I'm going to have to get that man a phone so he can learn to text." She found a pencil on the table and scribbled back, 'Hello, Draco.' She was about to fold the paper back up when she watched Draco's first words fade away into the paper, and new writing appeared below hers.

'Oh good. You got my letter.'

She raised an eyebrow. A note spell? The last time she had participated in an adolescent spell like this, Ron had passed her spelled parchment in between classes to discuss answers on the next Potions exam. Well, she thought, this would be almost exactly like texting. At least Archimedes wouldn't have to fly around all night just to satisfy his owner.

'What do you want, Draco?' She wrote, attempting her best handwriting. Her letters faded away before his faded into view.

'You.'

A blush crawled over her cheeks.

'Excuse me?'

'I can't sleep. Come over.'

She sighed. 'I can't. Astoria would notice if I left in the middle of the evening.'

'So?'

Yes, so? 'We have work tomorrow.'

'And yet you're up.'

'Yes, well. You woke me.'

'Even more of a reason to come over.'

Her heart fluttered. 'You don't want me to do that.'

'I do.'

'And what would happen if I did?'

His reply was written sloppily for his usual plumed handwriting. It took a moment for the words to show.

'Do you really want me to answer that?'

This felt oddly familiar. Like when she had taught Ronald how to use a cell phone and he had sent those risky pictures… Oh lord. Was this… wizard sexting? Surely not. Draco was just emotional. He just didn't want to be alone. But she wasn't that daft. Even thinking the theory felt idiotic. A rush of excitement washed over her. She hadn't felt this this childish in such a long time, and it thrilled her.

'Well, go on. If you're not scared.'

She could almost see his smirk behind her eyelids as she waited for his reply.

* * *

Go on? Did she really just say that? Oh, what a bad girl she was indeed.

Draco thought about it. What would he do to her if he had her all to himself tonight? Assuming she was willing.

'Well, I'd start by telling you how beautiful you look.'

'You don't even know what I look like right now.'

'I don't need to see you to know how you look.' But… 'What are you wearing?'

* * *

There was a sudden rush of heat to Hermione's lower abdomen. She didn't know why she was feeling so tingly when he had asked such a somewhat innocent question. Perhaps it was because she could hear the way he would ask it, so soft and commanding. She imagined his warm breath brushing against her ear as his lips tickled her skin. She imagined him planting firm kisses along the pulse in her neck.

Then she looked down to her worn out Ninja Turtles sweatshirt and pajama shorts. Well, that wasn't sexy at all, was it?

'A smile.'

Yes. That would do it.

* * *

Her answer was coy, and he chuckled to himself. 'Well, I know for a fact how stunning you wear one of those.' He decided to get daring. 'What are you doing right this moment?'

He waited. 'Sitting at my kitchen table. Feeding your bird.'

He smirked. 'Are you completely alone?'

There was a pause. 'Yes.' Good.

'I want you to spread your legs wide. Can you do that for me?'

He felt himself twitch in his pajama bottoms. This kind of interaction was new to him - he couldn't believe he hadn't ever tried this before! Imagining Hermione Granger sitting at her kitchen table in the dark obeying his every order was simply scrumptious.

Her reply was quick. 'Alright.'

'Good girl.' He waited a moment before adding, 'Now imagine me behind you. Imagine the back of the chair was me. Imagine me kissing down your neck. Do you feel me there?'

The handwriting was shaky as she replied, 'Yes, Draco. I feel you.'

'Where are my hands?'

'On my legs.'

Yes… he kept his writing hand on his quill as his other trailed down to his lap, brushing against the fabric separating him from his cock. 'My hand trails up your thigh, slowly. My fingernails scrape against your skin. You're so wet me for me, aren't you, love?' He could imagine how she felt under his touch the last time, so soft and warm. His fingers brushed under the waistband of his pants, imagining it was her hand.

'This isn't fair.'

'What isn't?'

'You're teasing me.'

'Of course. That's what this is. But no one said you weren't allowed to touch yourself.'

He waited for what seemed like forever before she replied. 'What if I get caught?'

He chuckled. 'You won't. Touch yourself, Hermione. Hands outside of your pajamas, now. Just imagine your hand is my own. Where is it?'

'On my thigh.'

This was like Christmas morning. 'Move it higher. Imagine my fingers slipping up your stomach to caress one of your tits. Touch yourself. Make your nipples hard for me.'

His fingers slipped all the way under his pajamas as he caressed his firm cock. He gripped the head, giving it a gentle stroke.

'Are they hard for me?'

'Yes.'

'What would you do if you were here?'

He waited patiently for her response. 'I'd kiss you.' Well, yes, of course she would. He'd need to coax the minx out of her.

'Where would you kiss me?'

'Your lips. Neck. Shoulder. Your mark.' His fingers clenched around himself as he grew even more aroused. He didn't know that was even possible. He gave himself a few good strokes.

'Does that turn you on, love?' There was thrill out of the thought that Hermione Granger was hot and heavy for the darkness within him. No one else would even look past it, but she… she'd stare right into the sun, wouldn't she, if it meant to understand it? He knew he should be disgusted with himself, but the temptation there was too great. It reeled him in.

'I don't know.' He could imagine the nervousness with which she wrote. He grew tepid.

'It's alright if it does' he wrote, 'Light always needs the darkness, just as the night needs the day. And without the light, there would be an awful lot of dark.' It surprised him how profound his statement was, but it also made his lust grow stronger. If she was in any way attracted to the darkness in him, he wanted to know it. Needed to know that it was worth something.

'What are you doing right now?' she asked.

'Sitting at my desk. Touching myself to the thought of you.' He wished he could whisper it in her ear to hear her muted moan. He slid his hand to the base and back up to the head, imagining her wet tongue doing naughty things to the shaft. Merlin, this need in him was too great. 'Come over.'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'I've told you.'

'You don't want me to bend you over my study desk and make you scream my name over and over until you soak my cock with your cum?'

He forced himself to not jerk himself off right then and there. No. He needed to convince her to come - either physically here or physically in her kitchen chair.

Three words popped up on the parchment. 'I'd love that.'

He grinned to himself. 'Then why do you fight it? Let me pleasure you.'

'There's a war going on, Draco. We hardly have time to…' She scribbled the words out, because thick lines slashed across the letters. 'What am I to you?'

His stared at the words. He had asked her these words not too long ago and he remembered how hollow the word 'friend' rang in his ears. He couldn't refer to her as a friend. Because she wasn't just that. She was so much more. Carefully, he set the quill to the paper at the same time that he withdrew his hand from his pajama bottoms. He needed to be delicate. She was as fierce as she was timid. One wrong way in either direction could ultimately shatter the balance. So he asked himself; what was she to him?

'I thought you wanted to talk about this on Saturday.'

'I thought I did too.'

'You're not very good at this sexual taunting you know.'

'I am when I know where I stand with someone.'

He felt his arousal slipping. 'Yes, well, whose fault is that?'

He imagined her sighing. Lips parted. And just like that, his erection was ready again. Merlin, if he didn't get some relief soon… 'I'll be there soon.'

He blinked at the words for a few moments, surprised. Crumpling the paper up and tossing it in the corner with the others, he dashed out of the room and down the staircase. He found her in the den, standing with her hands folded across her stomach, wearing some frumpy shirt and pajama shorts that barely covered her. Not quite what he imagined when he thought of her in his head, but the allure was still there. He knew there was no point in trying to cover up his hard on. So he stood there, hands at his sides, his chest heaving up and down from bounding down the stairs. Against the pale light of the fireplace, she reminded him of the Irish goddess Aine in his ancient lore books his mother had read him as a child. He remembered the words well. 'So beautiful was the goddess of the sun, that Aine could take a man's heart and his very breath from.'

"Draco," she whispered, and a tear fell down her face.

Oh, Merlin. Now he had made the goddess cry. "Now what have I done?" he asked irritably.

"Nothing." She stepped across the room and slipped her hands around his neck. "Nothing." And then she kissed him. He could taste the salt from her tears, and the frustration on her tongue. When she broke away, she hugged him. "You frighten me."

He slipped his arms around her, relishing in the way her body fit perfectly to his. "I know I do."

"Then why do I…?" she whispered.

He smirked, sliding his hands down until the rested just at the base of her spine. "I'm not entirely sure of that myself." He traced delicate designs along her back, tucking his fingers under her shirt to feel her warm skin. She shivered. "But I like you, Hermione. I think… I always have, deep down."

"Where do we go from here?"

"Where would you like to go?"

Her lips brushed against his collarbone. "To your bedroom."

He kissed her atop the forehead as his ego inflated. "Yeah, alright." He took her by the hand and led her up the stairs, glancing back at her every few moments to make sure she wasn't going to tuck tail and run. When she didn't and they arrived to his bedroom door, he stopped to kiss her along her jaw, then down her neck, and finally trailing back up to her lips. "If you come in this bedroom, you're making a decision for yourself," he told her, reaching down to grab one of her ass cheeks. He tried to fight back his animalistic urges long enough to make a point. "Do you understand? If you decide to step through this door, you're _mine_. And I'm _yours_. And that's all there is to it."

Chocolate eyes found icy silver. He could read her expression a mile away; she was frightened. He stroked her cheek, planting kiss after delicate kiss along her lips to assure her: he wasn't going anywhere. "What… what if you…" She whispered, and her voice became raspy as she fought back tears. "What if you die too?"

Had this been what had been holding her back? After everything she obviously felt for him, was this the question that had forced her into pushing them further away each day? He searched her face for any indication that this wasn't it, but no. There it was. This is where her fear had stemmed from. After fighting it for all that time, she had finally come to terms with what had been hiding there all along. It wasn't his darkness that frightened her. It was hers. The loss she had felt day to day with each passing moment without her husband by her side. Would Astoria ever have mourned him this way, he wondered, should the tables have been turned? He doubted it.

He cracked a smile, relief filling his core. "I'm too stubborn to die, Hermione. Don't you know that by now?"

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she brushed it away irritably. "You think I would…" she whispered, laughing quietly. "You _are_ very stubborn."

"So are you," he replied, "We make a fine pair."

"But what about your wife?"

"My _ex-_ wife?"

"You're only just out of your marriage and I… I don't want to stand in the way… should you decide…"

"Should I decide what? To go back to Astoria?" He scoffed. "Tori has no love for me. Not really. She'll never forgive me for lying to her. And if that's the kind of wife she'd want to be, I wouldn't take her back for all of the stars in the sky. Hermione, do you really not understand my feelings for you?" He reached back and turned the handle of his door. "Let me show you."

Hermione's eyes pried away from his, glancing to his bedroom. The stars bewitched on the ceiling twinkled back to him in her eyes. She sighed, wiped a few more tears away, and nodded slowly. "Alright, Draco. Show me."

He reached out and took her hand, leading her past the threshold of his door and over to the chase lounge, where he sat her down and fell to his knees at her feet. She watched him, eyes half-lidded, as he took the fabric of her shirt between his fingers and slipped it over her stomach. He watched her raise her arms, allowing him to slide the shirt over her head and expose her exquisite breasts into his line of vision. Her pert nipples begged for attention, but he controlled himself as he leaned forward and kissed her along her collarbone, drawing the moment out. Her hands found his hair, gripping tight enough to make him bite along her skin in response. He was trying so desperately to be good - to show her his care instead of his aggression, but she wasn't helping the situation. Heatedly, he reached up to her arms and brought them back down to her sides. "Now, now," he purred. "Hands to yourself, Miss Granger."

She sighed, her eyes heavy. He knew she was struggling, but Hell, so was he. "Yes, Mister Malfoy."

Oh good God. His cock jumped in response. No. He must be strong willed…

Draco's lips found her body again, this time nibbling at her shoulder. She moaned, her head falling back to rest against the chaise lounge as her legs spread further apart. He smirked, trailing his tongue down, down until he found the object of his desire; an exposed, begging tit just waiting to be sucked. He flicked his tongue across her pebbled nipple, earning a gasp. Merlin, if that gasp didn't want to make him cum right then and there. He slipped his lips over the flesh, then his teeth, rolling it between them gently to hear her moan. And oh did she ever. He scooped her tiny breast into his mouth, suckling, teasing her with his tongue until she bucked her hips absently.

Smirking, Draco released her breast from his lips to kiss down her stomach, one hand pushing a thigh out further to spread her while the other went to her other lonely breast and pinched. She hissed between her teeth, but her legs went wider still, until she whispered, "Please, Draco."

"Up on your feet then," he told her, scooting back on his knees as she found her footing to stand. He dipped his tongue into the curve of her belly button as his hands went to work jerking down her shorts and underwear. They fell to her ankles, leaving her completely exposed to him like the sexual deity she had always been deep down inside. He guided one of her legs over his shoulder, and then the other, kissing her stomach as he stood, Hermione in tow. Her fingers found his hair again, but he rather enjoyed the way she pulled at it as he scooted her closer to his face with his hands along her glorious backside to lift her. Then he flicked his tongue out and tasted the beautiful bud between her legs, making her arch her back and moan.

"Oh good God," Hermione whispered.

Draco lapped at her wet and willing clit, glancing up between tastes to watch her under the stars in his bedroom as she gripped at her breasts in response. Yes, just as beautiful as the goddess Aine. He carried her over to the bed and tossed her back, making her squeal in surprise as her body fell back against the satin sheets. Draco took no time in climbing on the bed and nestling his face between her legs again, tongue tracing intricate designs. She tasted like sex and inhibition and strawberries and escape. He wanted to get lost in her, to forget everything as he lapped at her juices. He could hear her moan above him. Good. He wanted her to enjoy every single moment of him cherishing her body.

Her knees found their way over his shoulders again, angling her up into his mouth. He loved it, suckling at her clit before flicking his tongue quickly and eliciting a gentle groan.

"Need… you…" she whimpered.

Draco didn't need to be told twice. He gave her swollen bud a sensual kiss before trailing hot, heavy kisses up her abdomen, her breasts, her neck, and finally to her lips, where he dipped his tongue in and offered her a taste of herself. By her reaction, she found it very arousing. Draco leaned up, resting an arm beside her so he could stare into her eyes.

Her face was flushed, her lips were swollen, and she was panting feverishly. It was all he had ever wanted. He brushed his cock against her thigh as he rolled his hips. "What do you want, Hermione?"

"You," she whispered.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"That's right." He kissed her passionately. "And who do I belong to?" He had never belonged to anyone, not even Astoria, before now. But there was a burning in him that could only be tamed by one word. And he needed her to say it.

"Me." She came to life in that moment, tugging him closer to plant kiss after kiss to his lips. "You belong to me, Draco." She reached down between them and slipped her fingers around his dick, making his eyes squeeze shut. Pleasure washed over him. He pressed against her sweet wetness, and she did the rest, positioning him until all he had to do was fall. And he did. In the moment he slipped into her, Draco Malfoy fell hard and heavy for Hermione Granger. It wasn't just in the way she fit around him like she was tailored specifically for his cock. It wasn't just in the way she kissed him, filling him up with light and heart. It was all the things that made her unique; her laugh, her sigh, her moan, her smile, her scowl, and her heart.

And damn it if Draco Malfoy didn't want to own that too.

Hermione sighed into his ear. "You feel… so good…" Her fingers dug into his back, making him slam into her harder than he had intended, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she moaned out a stream of obscenities, followed by a purr that sounded like, "Again."

He smirked, obliging as he slipped out of her and drove back in again, skin slapping against skin. Hermione all but screamed, arching her chest into his and dragging her nails down his spine. "Like that?" he chuckled.

"Yes… Draco, like that…"

He imitated his movement a few more times before burying his face into her soft curls and holding himself within her. It took everything in him not to fill her up with his cum. Merlin, the things her body was doing to his… "Ride me," he whispered, rolling her over with his cock still inside of her until she sat atop him, breasts glistening under the faux starlight. "Show me what you can do with my cock."

Hermione blinked timidly at him, but did not need much more prompting. She sat upright, extending an arm out to press against his chest as she lifted herself up and then slammed back down on him. Draco felt his entire world shift. All that mattered was the way her wet, warm lips between her thighs took in every inch of his throbbing member. He let an arm reach up and grasp at one of her breasts, but she swatted it away. He glanced up at her, irritable.

"Now, now," she teased, her voice sensual and snarky. "Hands to yourself, Mister Malfoy."

He smirked up at her, enjoying the feeling of being told what to do. He slipped his arms behind his head and said, "Yes, Miss Granger."

And there she rode him, sometimes quickly, letting her breasts bob up and down like a show; other times slowly, leaning forward so she could brush them against his lips, where he would attempt to slip one into his mouth before she jerked away. Her pelvis ground against his when she would ride him slow and he would relish in the sheer slip and slide of it all. He felt his body growing close to coming and he leaned up to kiss her. "Miss Granger," he whispered to her, "I'm going to need you to come for me. Think you can manage that?"

She groaned as he thrust up into her. "Ye-Yes. Just… do that."

"What? This?" He repeated the motion slowly. Hermione all but fell apart, wrapping her arms around him as she rode him for dear life. Draco moved in time with her hips, feeling his own orgasm growing once again, and just as he thought he couldn't hold out any longer, he felt her tighten around him as she moaned into his ear. "Good girl, Hermione. What a good girl you are…" He continued to thrust, riding out her orgasm until he came as well. There, cradled in his lap, Draco held Hermione, pulling her chest to chest with him as he began to kiss anywhere he could. He eventually found her lips, kissing her slow and delicate. Her eyes fluttered open and found his.

"Mine," he told her.

"Yours." She nodded. "And mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM. LEMON. Oh, did I forget to mention that?  
> Again, thank you MissPancake for editing my terrible mistakes.
> 
> Please leave your thoughts in the little comment box below?  
> A.


	21. A Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, MissPancake, for taking the time in your day for this story! *hearts* When/If I become a famous writer someday, I'm taking you with me. *huggles*

_Rat a tat tat_   
_Rat a tat tat tat hey_   
_If my love is a weapon_   
_There's no second guessing when I say_   
_Rat a tat tat_   
_Rat a tat tat tat hey_   
_If my heart is a grenade_   
_You pull the pin and say:_

_We're all fighting growing old_   
_We're all fighting growing old_   
_In the hopes_   
_Of a few minutes more_   
_To get, get on St. Peter's list_   
_But you need to lower your standards_   
_Cause it's never_   
_Getting any better than this_   
_"Rat A Tat" by Fall Out Boy_

* * *

You two seem awfully cheery this morning," said Astoria, rubbing her tired eyes. Draco sat at the kitchen table, attempting to feed Scorpius a jar of mashed bananas while Hermione was busy at the stove flipping pancakes. She was trying to conceal the smile in the corner of her lips, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. Nor could Draco hide the satisfied smirk that he had worn since he'd woken up this morning with her in his arms.

"Just excited to get to work," Hermione replied quietly, scraping the spatula underneath her newest pancake creation. A plate to her left piled at least ten high. "Dueling today."

"Dueling? Do people actually get excited for that sort of thing?" Astoria asked as she took a seat across from Draco and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

Hermione saw Draco's smirk widen. "You do if you know you can best your opponent." He glanced up towards Hermione and flashed her a challenging grin. "Isn't that right, Hermione?"

He said her name like it had been waiting there at the tip of his tongue; the same one that had done so many naughty things to her the night before. Hermione shivered and placed her last pancake atop the rest. "Quite right, Draco. Which is why I'm looking forward to bullying you into submission."

He caught her challenge. "The only one that'll be submissive is you, Granger. Let me assure you."

Astoria looked between the both of them, sipping her orange juice. She didn't appear irritated at the tit-for-tat that she was not a part of as one might expect; her eyes were busy reading their non-verbal cues. With a smile, she sat her glass back down. "Draco, the baby."

"Hmm?"

"Scorpius."

Draco peeled his eyes away from Hermione long enough to find Scorpius's pudgy fingers wrapped around the edge of the jar as he dumped the entire contents on top of his head. Scorpius giggled, throwing the jar to the floor before reaching for the spoon in Draco's fingers. "Oh, come on now, Scorp. That was fresh made, that was."

"Perhaps if you weren't so distracted," Astoria quipped. "You might have taken notice."

"I'm not distracted," Draco said, though his eyes were set on Hermione again and Scorpius hit him in the nose with the spoon. "Ouch! Alright, alright. Sorry." He waved his fingers and willed the mess away. "But this is the last jar, you hear?" He turned his head to Astoria. "We've gone through this twice already."

"Luckily I made four jars," Hermione said, setting down a new jar and spoon. She patted Scorpius on top of his head. "Anticipating your opponent is the best way to stay ahead of them." Delicately, she bent over and kissed Scorpius on the cheek. He cooed in response and slapped his small hands across his tray.

As Draco set to work feeding his son again, Hermione gathered up three plates, sat one down at each chair, and served up the pancakes. She had already set out the butter and maple syrup.

"Quite the little home-body, aren't you, Miss Granger?" Astoria raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"When the mood suits me," she replied, taking her seat next to Draco.

"The mood never suited her," Draco scoffed, nudging over to Astoria, "I don't think you ever cooked a breakfast in your life."

"Well, dear, if you ever decided to crawl out of bed before noon, I might have." Astoria pushed her stack of pancakes towards the center of the table. "Very sweet of you, Miss Granger, but I seem to have lost my appetite."

There was a knock at the door, and both Draco and Hermione exchanged worried glances. "Not a word." She told the Malfoy family, rising from her chair. She cast a quick illusion charm to make the kitchen appear empty and strolled her way to the door. When she opened it, she found Harry, once again, on her front step.

"Hermione. Is Malfoy here?"

The question caught Hermione so off guard it took her a moment to answer. "Y-Yes."

"I need to talk to him."

"Alright." She opened the door. "Come in." When the door was shut, she took down her charm and revealed the three sitting at the table, Draco with a fork full of pancakes about to touch his lips. He set it down when he saw Harry and straightened in his chair.

"Potter." He said. "Everything alright?"

" 'Fraid not." Harry walked over to the table and looked to Astoria. "Astoria Greengrass, I presume?"

"Yes." Astoria nodded.

"We've been looking everywhere for you. Malfoy too." He removed his glasses from his face and pinches his nose as if he were smelling very bad cabbage. "I don't know how to say this… your home was attacked last night."

"What?" asked Astoria. Draco's eyebrows furrowed.

"We thought maybe you'd been kidnapped. We've put out a search for you and your son. I'm glad to know you're both alright." Harry set his glasses back on his face.

"My father…?" Astoria asked.

"Out on holiday. But some of the house elves…" He let his voice drop.

"What happened?" asked Draco.

"Fiendfyre - The entire place was up in flames by the time we arrived."

Hermione, from her little spot across the room, swallowed hard. She and Draco exchanged worried glances.

"Someone meant to kill you, Miss Greengrass," said Harry. "And I think we all can take a guess as to who."

"Cane." Draco growled. "I swear to fucking Merlin I'm going to beat his sodding head in when I find him." He removed the tray from Scorpius's highchair and untucked him from it, not caring if he got bananas on his work robes as he cradled his son to his chest. "This is my fault."

"Well, of course it's your fault," Astoria muttered irritably. If Hermione's eyes were weapons, they would have stabbed Astoria's pretty little eyes out. She crossed the room in less than three seconds and glared down to Astoria.

"Apologise," she demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Apologise to Draco."

"Hermione," Draco whispered as he touched her arm. "Let it go."

"No." She beat her glare down upon Astoria like a club. "No, Draco. I won't let it go. I've taken you into my home. I've given you my bed to sleep in. I've cooked for you, provided for you, because I care about what happens to you and your son. But I will not stand idly by while you tear Draco down in front of Scorpius like this." She lowered down to Astoria's eye level. "Draco is a far better man than you give him credit for. Yes, he's screwed up. But we've all done some bad things in our lives. And his resolve to change is strong. So either put up or shut up at this point. Do I make myself clear, Astoria?"

Astoria scoffed, rising from her chair. "I have never been talked to so disrespectfully in all my life!"

"Maybe it's time then." Hermione jutted out her chin.

"Erm… Hermione," Harry interjected. "I don't mean to interrupt, but there are more pressing matters, don't you think?"

Yes." She nodded. "I quite agree."

"Well…" said Harry cautiously as he stared at his best friend. "Now that we know that Malfoy and his family are safe, we can pull the search warrant. I'll say you were overseas. Does that sound fair?" He asked Astoria.

She nodded. "Yes. My family owns a spring home in Nepal. It wouldn't seem farfetched for me to be out of the country… especially after such a terrible divorce." She glared at Draco.

"Yes, because the divorce was my fault, Tori," Draco sneered sarcastically.

"Give me the baby, Draco." She held out her arms, contempt in her voice. "You have work, don't you?"

Draco looked down to his son, reluctant to give him up. It was written all over his face: in wake of the attack, he didn't want to leave his son. And who could blame him really? Especially when having to leave him with a witch like Astoria, Hermione thought irritably. But she would give credit where credit was due: Astoria would give her life before she let anything happen to Scorpius.

"Just so you know," Draco said as he handed Scorpius off to his ex-wife. "Hermione and I are together."

"Did you really think I hadn't figured that out?" She sneered back to him. "Honestly, you're gawping at her like a dog ready to mount!"

"Is this really the time?" Hermione and Harry said together. Hermione's cheeks were flushed red; she hadn't expected Draco to come forward with their relationship so willingly out in the open. Especially in front of Astoria. Harry looked as the very bad cabbage he had appeared to smell earlier had somehow made its way into his stomach and he was going to throw it up at any moment.

"Have a pleasant day, Astoria. If we didn't share a child, just so you know, I would be cheering for the fiendfyre right now." Draco kissed Scorpius on the head and strutted his way to the floo. "Coming, Hermione?" His double entendre didn't go unnoticed. Hermione blushed violently as she walked over to the floo while Harry held back, holding his stomach and looking very green.

* * *

Draco's foul mood spilled over into class when Auror Diggle walked in with his briefcase and tired looking eyes. Eyes that looked hungrily over at Hermione. Draco didn't know what he wanted to do more; punch Diggle square in the teeth or have lust-filled angry sex on top of Diggle's desk with Hermione. Anything to remedy this adrenaline rush he had obtained from Potter's news this morning. Cane had tried - truly, wholly tried to murder his family last night. And that just wouldn't do. Oh, if only he could take some of his aggression out on Cane's lackluster lackey.

"Dueling," started Diggle, setting his briefcase down. "It is a practice that you'll get very used to in this profession. It is the bread and butter of your craft, and you should treat it as such. If you slack off, you're most likely to end up dead. Or worse." His eyes trailed over the class before they stopped at Draco. Just what did pretty boy want now? "The Dark Arts seduce many a wizard and witch." Ah, no wonder he was looking at him with 'I'm going to fuck your girlfriend in front of you just to make you watch' eyes. "And it is your job to combat them without giving in to the darkness yourself." Diggle pulled his eyes away and turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, what is the lesson in this?"

"It's easier to combat Dark magic with Dark magic, but that doesn't make it right. The only way to truly win is by knowing your spells and besting them the old fashioned way."

"Wonderful explanation, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor!" He laughed, but no one else did. "Oh, come on now. That was funny."

Well, Draco thought irritably, if there was one thing that Diggle and Cane shared in common besides a love for muggles, it was most certainly their bad jokes.

"Right. You won't be teamed up with your partners today," Diggle said, bringing the attention of his students back around. "No, you'd go too easy on them. Friendship is a wonderful thing, truly, but it does tend to muck up your perceptions. To avoid this injustice, I'll be pairing you up with acquaintances. So, who'd like to start us out?" His eyes glanced around the room. "No one? Alright… how about… Miss Granger and… Mister Simmons. Yes? There's already some animosity between the two of you. Should make for a very interesting show."

Behind him, Draco could hear Simmons crack his knuckles.

Diggle and his students set to work shrinking the desks to get them out of the way and conjuring up a proper dueling stage in the middle of the classroom. The last time Draco had seen one of those, he and Potter had been made to duel second year.

"I'll be your second," He heard Dean whisper to Hermione, who nodded in response. Draco would have made the offer himself, but he suspected Diggle would have found an excuse to forbid it. Simmons had already selected a thin, scrawny man by the name of Yolland for his second. He didn't look like much, but Draco had paid attention in class enough to know that Yolland was a master at defensive spells.

"What are the rules?" asked Draco to Diggle.

"The rules are quite simple. The first to either be knocked unconscious or concede will lose. The winner receives two shots on me this evening." Most of the classroom cheered, apart from Hermione, Draco, and Dean, who seemed to be eyeing up Simmons nervously.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked Hermione. She nodded.

"Gives me an opportunity to knock his lights out the legal way," Hermione chirped. "What's there not to want?"

"That's my girr—rraaanger." Draco corrected himself, noting the raised eyebrows from Dean. "What?" Draco snapped.

"Nothing," Dean replied.

Hermione stepped up onto the raised platform and shrugged off her robes, tossing them to Draco. He caught them, smirking. He'd have to get her to strip all of her clothes off for him sometime. It would be quite a show…

"Miss Granger," Diggle said to the side, ruining Draco's fantasies. "Your robes?"

"If it's all the same to you, sir, when I become an Auror I won't be wearing traditional robes." She readied her stance in her jeans and long sleeved shirt. "And I'd rather practice as such."

"Very well," Diggle nodded slowly. "On to the show then."

Simmons clambered his way onto the platform as well, reading his wand. Hermione had a smirk across her lips that Draco was quite proud of. It nearly matched his own. Merlin, was she ever beautiful in combat.

"Wants at the ready!" shouted Diggle. "Three! Two! One! Combat!"

"Confringo!" Simmons shouted, aiming at Hermione's feet. Without a word, she willed a barrier from the tip of her wand that deflected the blasting curse in one quick movement. The spell bounced off and hit the spelled window, shattering it and revealing smooth stone beneath. Hermione didn't even flinch.

"Good start," she smiled, waving her wand in a flurry at Diggle's quills on his desk. "Oppungo!" The quills shot off like arrows from the desk, aimed directly at Simmon's buttocks. Simmons brandished his wand and sent the quills in an array of different directions until they hit the walls.

"Not bad… for a woman."

Hermione's smile faded into a scowl. "Titillando!" A burst of light shot out of her wand and hit Simmons directly in the chest. He doubled over as if in pain before a smile cracked on his face and he began to laugh hysterically. A tickling charm. Not too shabby. Simmons collapsed to the floor, clutching his sides.

"Make it stop!" he growled. "Aha-ah-I s-said.. ahah… make it stop!"

"Do you concede, Auror Simmons?" Shouted Diggle.

"No… ahah… fucking… way!"

"Then you must finish him, Miss Granger." Greg Diggle's eyes lit up in excitement. Hermione lowered her wand, frowning.

"Sir, I don't need to knock him out. He's already-"

"Expulso!"

"Protego!"

Hermione threw up her protective charm in the nick of time - Draco gave out a frustrated sigh.

"Finish him off, Granger!" he shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. "Make the sod regret ever crossing you!"

"Yeah!" Encouraged Dean. "What Malfoy said!"

One by one, the entire classroom, aside from Yolland, began to chant. "Gran-ger. Gran-ger! GRAN-GER!"

"Diffindo!" A thin, green light shot out of Simmon's wand and hit Hermione in the shoulder. She screamed out, clutching at it. Blood began to trickle down her shirt. Simmons smirked as the classroom hushed. "Not so tough now, are you, bitch?"

Anger flared over Hermione's face, and with a wave of both of her arms, she shouted, "Stupefy!"

Simmons collapsed in an unconscious pile to the ground.

"You're the bitch now, Simmons," she whispered coldly at him as the crowd burst into cheer. She winced as blood poured from her shoulder, and Diggle climbed on stage to tend to her. Draco felt helpless as he acted his part down on the ground, but when she caught his eyes and smiled to him, he felt his chest relax. 'Great job.' He mouthed. 'I know.' She mouthed back.

Once Diggle had repaired her arm, he allowed her to hop off the stage. It took three grown men to drag Simmons down to the floor. "What do we do with him?" asked Dean.

"Oh, he'll come around eventually," Diggle said gleefully, "Just leave him. Who's next?"

One by one, Diggle paired up the remaining Aurors. Dean managed to knock out Yolland in two spells. It seemed dueling was not where he was challenged. Draco took notice of the odd number of Aurors and the fact that Diggle kept avoiding his name. When it came round where everyone else had already been paired off, Diggle set his sights on Draco. "Ah, yes. Auror Malfoy. Seems we're one short, aren't we?" He looked around the room. "It would be unfair of me to pair you up against someone who's already used their best efforts on someone else. You know the tells."

Draco had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"I suppose it's only fitting that I shall duel you," Greg Diggle shrugged.

"Sir, I don't mind going again," Offered Dean, but Diggle shook his head.

"No, no. It should give me some good practice, anyways." Diggle climbed onto the stage. "What say you, Malfoy? Care for a little challenge?"

Draco smirked, turning to Hermione. 'Little?' He mouthed. Hermione blanched, nudging him in the shoulder. He knew she'd get the joke. I think I'll refer to him as little cock Diggle in front of her when this is all over… yes… that sounds like fun.

"I'm game." Draco took to the stage. "Care to raise the stakes a bit higher, sir? All in good fun, of course."

Greg Diggle raised his eyebrow. "Of course…" His voice wasn't convinced. "What did you have in mind?"

"Loser owes the winner one request. Anything they want."

"Hmm. Sounds interesting." Diggle rubbed his chin. "Anything?"

"Anything."

"I'll take you up on that." Diggle brandished his wand. "So I'll be expecting you to lick my boots when this is all through?"

The classroom burst into murmurs and laughs. Draco could feel Hermione's anxious stare in the back of his skull. "As long as you're prepared to wear a frilly skirt to tomorrow's lesson." Draco smirked.

"Then let us proceed. Who will count us off?"

"I will." Hermione came to the edge of the platform. She smiled sweetly to Diggle. "Good luck, Greg." She turned her eyes to Draco. "Break a leg."

Well, that wasn't much of a nice sentiment.

Dean whispered up to him, "That means good luck when you're on stage. It's a good thing."

"Whose side are you on, Dean?" Diggle chided.

"Wands ready, then?" Hermione said. "Three." She cast an anxious 'don't you dare lose' look to Draco. "Two. One. Duel!"

Draco prepared for an attack immediately, throwing up a protego spell, but the offensive maneuver didn't come. Diggle's green eyes glistened happily across the platform as if he were studying Draco's every detail. Draco held his stance, wand out, eyes open and ready for anything. But Diggle just stared.

"Well?" Draco sneered. "Are you going to get on with-"

"Impedimenta!" Turquoise light burst out of Diggle's wand and hit Draco square in the stomach. Time seemed to slow, and Draco found that his arms nor legs would move. Diggle smirked, lowering his wand. "You'll find that catching your opponent off guard is the simplest way to defeat them. Never jump in too soon." He strolled across the platform and squared Draco up eye to eye, leaning so close that Draco could smell the peppermint gum Diggle was chewing. "So what shall I do with you, Auror Malfoy?"

The spell released, and Draco found his fist flying through the air before he had time to register that this was his instructor he was making to knock into next week. His knuckles came in contact with Diggle's jaw, sending Greg stumbling back. He caught his footing in time, and reached up to rub his already swollen jaw.

"Just implementing your lesson, sir." Draco smirked.

Diggle straightened his back and for a moment his eyes darkened. But then he was back inside of his happy go lucky façade, smiling to the room. "I'm going to enjoy this." He snapped his fingers, and the bones in Draco's wand hand began to crunch and break apart as if held under a crushing vice. Draco screamed out in pain, his wand falling to the floor and rolling off of the platform. The entire classroom was silent as Draco fell to his knees. "Do you concede, Auror Malfoy?"

Draco hadn't been in so much pain in a very long time. Not since Cane… He shot his eyes up to Diggle and glared. Of course. Cane had shown him a few tricks, hadn't he? This sort of magic was foreign - it wasn't particularly illegal, but it was unknown to most and had Cane written all over it. "Not… on your… life…" He said through gritted teeth. Another bone snapped in his finger. "Arghh!"

Diggle leaned over and whispered in Draco's ear, "Are you sure about that? You'll pass out from the pain eventually."

"Go… to Hell…"

Diggle stood upright and looked to the classroom. Draco turned his head to the side and met Hermione's tear-filled eyes. He could tell it took everything in her not to jump in and stop what was happening. He shook his head to her. No. She needed to stay out of this. This was between Diggle and Draco.

"We as wizards forget that the body is a very vulnerable object. With the right sort of pressure, pain has the capability of winning over any opponent."

"What you're doing is no better than the Cruciatus Curse!" Hermione shouted at once. "Greg… please…" she whispered. "Stop."

Diggle reluctantly waved his hand, and the invisible crushing force on Draco's hand released at once. "My apologies, Miss Granger. I only meant to make a point. Nothing else."

Draco could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he struggled to focus his eyes. The pain was extraordinary, much worse than the time that insolent bird had kicked him third year. His vision was slipping-he could feel himself being pulled into the darkness. He felt Diggle's firm hand on his shoulder as he tugged Draco up to his feet. The world was spinning.

"Concede, Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head. Heated and in the moment, he thrust his elbow backwards, catching Diggle in the ribs. It was the perfect distraction before Draco spun around and kicked Greg hard into his stomach with his kneecap. Diggle doubled over.

"Concede, Diggle?" he said pompously, stumbling for balance.

"Oh this is outrageous!" Hermione shouted. "Someone stop them both!"

"Really, Hermione," Dean said to her. "This is actually the best entertainment we've had in a long time. I'm not sure who I'm rooting for more."

"For me of course!" Draco smirked, waving his good hand around the room. "If I win, drinks are on me tonight!"

The entire room cheered. Apart from Hermione, who slipped out the back door. Draco frowned in concern, and Diggle took his opportunity, tackling Draco. They both fell over, Draco on his back, and Diggle made a swing at his face - Draco threw up his good hand and caught Diggle's wrist, jerking it and hearing a resounding snap. Diggle shouted in pain.

"Doesn't feel good, does it?" Draco quipped, turning the wrist a bit further.

"This is some duel," Simmons said to Yolland.

The door burst open, and Auror Potter ran to the front of the class at the edge of the platform, Hermione on his heels. "Greg! Malfoy! Stop it! What d'you think you're doing?"

Draco smirked and released Diggle's wrist. Diggle rolled off of Draco, huffing and wincing as he landed on his injured hand. Draco leaned his head back, giving a sigh of relief. It was all over.

He turned his head to the side to catch Hermione's eyes. There were no longer tears, but a furious glare that spread across her features, casting a dark aura over her. Draco could imagine little clouds filled with lightning above her head. Or maybe that was just the pain setting in. He couldn't be sure- his eyes were beginning to lose focus again.

"-The seven Hells-" He could hear Potter yelling, "-Completely unprofessional - should have you both quarantined-"

Draco let sleep consume him, smirking all the while.


	22. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this weird thing that I sometimes go through where it's not quite writer's block, but everything I write is poo and I go into this existential funk and just have to sit in my room for hours after work not doing a damn thing (not even listening to music) while I find my muse again. Needless to say, I found it, but I didn't go grocery shopping like I was going to and so my husband and I had to go in the middle of the night when he got off work lol. Oh the joys of a supportive husband. So lucky to have him. XD
> 
> A.

**Send my love to your new lover**   
**Treat her better**   
**We've gotta let go of all of our ghosts**   
**We both know we ain't kids no more  
"Send My Love" by Adele**

* * *

"A _week_?" Draco shouted. "You're suspending me for _a week_?"

"You're lucky you weren't terminated from the program altogether," Harry said, pushing his glasses up his nose. He, Hermione, and Draco stood in the entryway of the Malfoy Manor. The sun was already setting on the horizon. "The Minister wanted your head for fighting with your instructor. I vouched for you. If it makes you feel any better, Greg's been suspended until Monday. Unpaid."

"He _broke_ my _hand_." Draco enunciated each word, looking down to his now numb fingers. It took the nurse two hours to set them all straight again, and the potion she had given him to mend them tasted like onions mixed with pepper. He could still taste it on his tongue. His hand was set in a brace, and he wouldn't be allowed to remove it for two days until the bones were completely healed. _That's_ how many bones were broken, Draco thought irritably.

" _You_ threw the first punch!" Harry threw his hands up in the air. "What were you thinking, Malfoy?"

Draco stood there, lips pursed. He wasn't entirely sure why he slugged Diggle, except for bragging rights. Greg Diggle had a way of getting under his skin that even Potter couldn't hold a candle to. There was something so sinister about the way he came off as kind and funny. It was a big show, and Draco wasn't about to pay for a ticket into it. "He broke my hand." He said again, quieter. "With gray magic."

"Gray magic?" Hermione turned her eyebrows upwards, speaking for the first time in nearly an hour. She still appeared very cross with him for letting himself fall to Diggle's level, and she had told him as much before she had given him the silent treatment. But by the way her voice shook, Draco thought he maybe preferred the silence. "There's no such thing. That's an old wife's tale."

"There _is_ ," Draco growled. "Cane taught it to me. It's forgotten magic. Wandless. Ancient."

"And where did he learn it?" Potter asked.

"Books. Very old books. Cane's place was full of them."

"So you're saying Greg possessed the same magic capability?"

"I'm saying that there's no doubt in my mind that Cane has his hooks in Diggle. I'm sure of it."

The hall fell silent. Hermione nodded. "You need to talk to the Minister about this, Harry."

"And say what, Hermione? If I go to the Minister without clear evidence, they'll throw the whole case out. Greg's father was once the liaison between the Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic. He's got ties all through the Ministry. I'm good, Hermione, but I'm not that good. I could get sacked if I can't prove it."

"That's why Cane wants him," Draco whispered, "Because he has hands in the honey pot. Cane could know just about anything with Diggle's resources."

"What are we going to do?" Hermione sighed.

"We go with the plan," said Potter, "Hermione will distract Greg Saturday night, and Draco and I will sift through his memories and see if we can't find something to use."

"Don't make me go on another date," she said irritably, "Especially not after what he did to Draco."

Harry cringed. "For my benefit, call him Malfoy around me." He pleaded with his eyes. "I'm begging you. This is difficult to stomach, Mione."

" _Mione_ ," Draco mocked him, "Is that some sort of nickname? It's terrible."

"Harry's been calling me that for years," Hermione scolded, hooking her hands around her hips in a defensive 'I'm about to give you a what for' stance that made Draco back up a foot or two.

"Alright!" He threw his hands up into the air, wincing as he forgot about his injured one and bringing it back down to rest against his stomach. "It's a stupid nickname is all I'm saying."

"Draco! I mean Malfoy - I mean - I'm sorry, Harry. I just can't do it."

Potter grumbled irritably as he gathered his robes from the coat rack. "Seriously, Hermione." He gave her a quick hug and whispered something into her ear that Draco couldn't hear. Then he turned, gave Draco a nod of his head, and took his leave out the front door.

"What did he say to you?" asked Draco.

Hermione blushed. "He might have told me that the sex wasn't worth the headache."

He smirked. "Isn't it, though?"

She rolled her eyes, shoved him in the shoulder, and gathered up her robes. "I'll see you tomorrow, Draco."

"You're leaving?"

"Of course I am. Some of us have work in the morning." She walked back over to him and leaned up, kissing his lips delicately. "I know you want to ask me to stay. But you know I can't."

"Why not?" He pouted his lower lip.

"Because I want to take this slow, Draco." She was the perfect height to trail kisses under his jaw, which is exactly what she did. Slow, sensual kisses that made his knees want to buckle.

"Should have thought about that before you came to my home last night," he whispered, leaning his head back to take in the feeling of her lips against his skin. He could already feel himself growing aroused, and he sighed irritably. "Come on. One more night?"

"Nope. Sorry." She bit down on the groove where his shoulder met his throat. "But have fun imaging."

He quirked an eyebrow and glanced down at her. "Are you… are you mocking me?"

"Perhaps." She giggled, standing on her tiptoes and planting one more kiss on his lips. Draco slipped his good hand around the nape of her neck and held her there, drawing out the moment. She sighed into his mouth happily, and he slipped his tongue against the bottom of her lip. Hermione jerked back and wagged a finger in his face. "Not tonight." She did take his hand to lead him to the den, where she released it and stepped in front of the floo. "I'll be over first thing tomorrow after work to check on you. Sound fair?"

"Sure."

"Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

He watched her disappear in a puff of green flames and sighed. What he wouldn't give for just one more night like the last. Damn it, he realized, it wasn't just his wand hand that was broken - it was his… _fun_ hand. This was going to be a miserable night indeed.

* * *

Things between Hermione and Astoria had been very cool since their blow up on Thursday morning. When Saturday arrived, Hermione decided it might be time to approach the former Malfoy wife and smooth things over. They were living together, after all. Astoria was cuddled up on the bed, reading a book when Hermione knocked on the door. Astoria looked up, nudged over to a sleeping Scorpius, and tiptoed her way to the door.

"Miss Granger," she whispered in a neutral tone, "Can I help you?"

"Astoria, you can call me Hermione."

"I'd rather not."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "May I speak with you in the living room?" Astoria followed her out, shutting the door softly behind her. When they stood in the center of the rug with just a coffee table between them, Hermione started, her speech well prepared. "Look, I know we haven't gotten off on the right foot, and I can understand why you might have contempt for me."

"And why do you think that is?" asked Astoria, crossing her arms.

"Because I'm dating Draco. Because you think I'm beneath him-"

"Is that what you think?" Astoria gave a huffed sigh. "Contrary to what you believe, I hold no ill will towards your blood. If anything, you might be too good for him."

This was not what Hermione had expected to hear. She was sure she would hear a lecture based off of mingled blood heritages, but instead Astoria looked at her with concern, not contempt. "You're referring to his former Death Eater status."

"No. Even I was able to look past that after a time. You don't know what kind of a man he is."

"I know enough."

"Do you?" She took a step closer, eyes hardened. "He lied to me for years about where he was going and what he was doing. What makes you think he won't do the same to you?"

Blood flooded Hermione's ears until all she could hear was her own pulse. She hadn't ever given that much thought before now. "Because… he's never lied to me."

Astoria laughed. "Oh? Hasn't he? How would you know? From what I hear, you two didn't get on very well before this Auror thing."

"We didn't." Hermione scowled. "We practically hated each other. But he never lied to me about the way he felt. He was a callous, prejudice sod with pride and arrogance. And he never once tried to pretend he was anything other than that. -You didn't know him back then, so you wouldn't know how far he's come."

"I was married to the man, Miss Granger. Or do you forget? Everything you think you're feeling - I've felt it too. Draco can put on a charm like no other man I've ever met. But that doesn't mean that he still isn't the same selfish, prideful man you knew back then. He just traded one vice for another." Astoria uncrossed her arms.

"If you hate him so much, why do you flaunt around like you want him back?"

"Honestly? I thought if I could prove to you that he's just as fickle as I know him to be, you might stop this foolish endeavour to redeem him."

"That's… that's horrible."

"We do what we must to protect good hearted people. Think what you wish of me."

"So you don't want Draco back?"

"Heaven's no. I can hardly stand to look at the man."

"…You're wrong about him," Hermione said quietly.

"Perhaps. But I warn you now - get out while you can. Or he'll break you. If you think he'll ever choose you above removing that Mark, you're in denial. And it's just a matter of time before Cane reels him back in. I've said my piece. Now, if you'll excuse me…" Astoria nodded curtly and without a word, went back to the bedroom. Hermione plopped down on the couch. Well, that hadn't gone to plan at all…

It never occurred to her that Astoria hadn't wanted Draco back. But thinking back on her actions, it had made a bit of sense. She had doubted his feelings after Astoria's conquest, hadn't she? It had made her think twice about it all. But then that night… that night changed everything. He could still hear the gentle way in which he spoke ringing in her ears.

 _'Hermione, do you really not understand my feelings for you?'_ She could see the resolve set in his eyes behind her lids. _'Let me show you.'_

No. She couldn't believe that Draco would go back to his old ways. She had watched him change over the last few months. He wanted to do right by Scorpius - had even tried to do right by Astoria.

Her mind drifted to that morning in Draco's bathroom with his head leaned back against the porcelain edge of the bath. _'I'm tired, Hermione. I'm tired of lying. Especially to the people… that I care about.'_

She remembered holding Scorpius for the first time as Draco confessed the reason why he wanted to become an Auror in the first place _. 'I do it for him.'_

_'Hmm?'_

_'Why I want to be an Auror. It's for him.'_

Her shaken resolve found solid footing again. Even if he couldn't do it for Astoria or Hermione for that matter, he wouldn't give into Cain for one reason: his son. He was Draco's whole world. Before, Draco hadn't been given an opportunity to provide for someone who could be more important than himself; his son gave him that. And Scorpius would be the reason why he wouldn't go back.

She glanced up at the clock above her fireplace. "Oh, damn it!" She exclaimed, noticing the time. She tiptoed down the hallway and knocked quietly on the door again. Astoria answered it within moments.

"What do you need now?"

"I need to get into my closet," Hermione told her irritably, pushing through and padding her way as soundlessly as she could past Scorpius and to her closet door. She swung it open and began to rummage through her clothes.

"Why do you feel the need to change your clothes at six o'clock at night?"

"Because I have a date," she replied mindlessly, only after realizing her mistake. She tensed up and hoped Astoria wouldn't pry. But she did.

"With Draco?"

She could have lied - really she could, but the words just spilled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "No, with Greg."

"Who's Greg?" Astoria raised an eyebrow, sauntering over to lean against the closet door. "Do tell. Does Draco know you're going out with someone else?"

"He's our training instructor… and yes. He does."

"And he doesn't mind?"

"He minds a little…"

"Bold move, Miss Granger."

"I don't want to date Greg," Hermione hissed, "But I need to distract him for a night."

"Why?"

"Auror reasons. You wouldn't understand."

"Does it have to do with Cane?"

Hermione turned her head, surprised at how well Astoria could put the pieces together. She nodded.

"I see. Well…" Astoria reached into the closet and pulled out a frilly red blouse with ruffles in the front, "If you mean to distract, this might do the trick."

"We're going bowling."

"Bowling? Is that the muggle sport where you throw balls down to knock over… oh, what are those things called?"

"Pins."

"Yes, pins!"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well then." Astoria grabbed up a pair of Hermione's shortest shorts and a thick camisole with blue stripes. "This."

"I'd hardly feel comfortable…"

"If you want to draw the man's attention, you must dress the part." Astoria shoved the clothes in Hermione's arms. "What will you do with your hair?"

Hermione sighed. This was going to be a very long night indeed.

* * *

Draco arrived through Hermione's floo at around seven o'clock. Her date with Diggle would be in an hour, and both he and Potter had decided that it might be safer to take Astoria and Scorpius with them while Hermione was out. As he stepped out and brushed his blazer off, he found Hermione twiddling her thumbs nervously while she drank a glass of wine at the kitchen table. Astoria sat next to her, Scorpius in her arms, looking quite pleased with herself. Draco wondered why until he drew his eyes back towards Hermione.

She was wearing trousers that barely covered the curve of her hips, and her shirt - well it was practically held together by two thin straps that barely clung to her shoulders. The neckline plunged low, revealing the supple curve of her breasts perked up by - what was that? A push-up brassiere? It was blue with lace at the top, and peeked out over the stripes of her shirt. Her hair was straightened, much to Draco's surprise and irritation, and pulled back in a thick, crisp bun. And to top it all off - she was wearing a signature shade of plum that Draco only had ever seen Astoria wear. Hermione looked beautiful and horrifyingly foreign to him all at once. He never had truly appreciated just how wonderful she looked without all the embellishments until he saw them first hand. But while he preferred the old Hermione, this new one wasn't half-bad.

"Wow…" he whispered, fearing to take another step. Hermione looked as if she were a gazelle that might bound from the room at any sharp movement. "You look…"

"Oh, go ahead and say it." Hermione frowned, the familiar crinkle between her eyebrow making her much more approachable. At least, Draco sighed to himself, she had the same Granger voice. It was reasonable and thoughtful and completely unlike Astoria's. Though he couldn't say much for the rest of Hermione. That screamed 'I'm Astoria Greengrass's very own personal make-up doll.'

"Say what?" Draco replied, controlling his voice as it tried to shift up an octave.

"I look terrible."

Both Astoria and Draco shouted at once, "You do not!" They paused, giving each other understanding nods of the head.

Draco cleared his throat. "You do not." He carefully stepped across the room and joined them at the table. As he pulled his chair out, he saw Hermione blush and turn her head to the side. Oh, would you look at that? She was even wearing earrings. Probably by magic, but it did punctuate the freckles on the sides of her cheeks. "You look wonderful."

A slow crawl of red climbed up Hermione's chest, neck, and finally cheeks, where it flushed pink all the way to her nose. Draco couldn't recall anyone else he knew who blushed this way except for when Weasley did it around the very woman Draco was staring at right now. And quite frankly, he couldn't blame Weasley. He understood it now. Either all the blood would go to one's face, or it would go straight down to one's prick. It was a toss-up which would be more embarrassing in the middle of the day.

"I look like a prostitute," Hermione replied dully.

"You look better than any prostitute I've ever seen."

Astoria curved a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. "And how many prostitutes have you seen in your day, Draco Malfoy?"

"I- I haven't… you know that's not what I meant." Draco huffed miserably.

"Well, in any case, she'll certainly tempt this Diggle man into forgetting himself," Astoria smirked, watching Draco pale. And he did so for two reasons: one, because he didn't ever like the idea of Diggle having his grimy mitts on his girl; and two, because Astoria was being positively a peach this evening in comparison to any other time since their problems arose in their marriage.

"You two are… fine now?" Draco scowled.

"Hardly," Hermione replied.

"We've come to an understanding," said Astoria.

"Uh huh…" Draco wasn't convinced. "And what, pray tell, is this understanding?"

"If you must know, anything that makes you uncomfortable I want to be a part of. And according to Hermione, this faux date with Auror Diggle will positively make you squirm."

"You're a cold bitch, Tori."

"Revenge is a dish best served cold, Draco." She blew him a mock kiss.

The doorbell rang. Hermione glanced up, catching eyes with not Draco, but Astoria, who gave her an encouraging look.

"You look wonderful, dear. Honestly."

Hermione nodded slowly and made to stand. Draco copied her, rising from his chair as well, and she shook her head. "I need to put a glamour spell on the kitchen so Greg doesn't see you."

He lowered his voice as to not be heard from the door. "A kiss then?"

Hermione leaned over and kissed him sultrily on the lips. She patted his cheek, shoved him lightly back down in his chair, and crossed her way out of the kitchen before casting a quick illusion charm and stepping to the door.

"Hello, Hermione," Came the voice of Diggle as she opened it. "I…. I have to say, you look absolutely stunning."

'That's my line…' Draco grumbled in his head.

"Ready to go?" Hermione asked, and without a second glance back shut the door, leaving Draco and Astoria in the house alone. Scorpius blew a spit bubble and giggled. Draco turned back around in his chair.

"Hey, Scorp." He snatched the baby out of Tori's arms at once and began to blow raspberries on his neck. Scorpius giggled.

"You… really do care, don't you?" Astoria asked, folding her hands in a V before resting her delicate chin in them.

"About Scorpius? Of course, I do. What kind of question is that?"

"You and I both know I'm not talking about the baby, Draco."

He raised his eyes slowly in her direction, catching hers after a time. "If you're thinking I never cared about you that way, you're wrong. I've always cared, Astoria."

"Have you?" She pursed her lips.

"I married you. Do you think I would have wasted my time if I thought we wouldn't be together for the rest of our lives? I made a commitment to you."

"And you dishonored that commitment the moment you took up with Cane," she replied, her voice calm and calculated. Scorpius reached up and slapped Draco in the nose, cooing.

"Tori," Draco started, taking just a moment to nibble on Scorpius's tiny fingers, eliciting another slew of giggles from the baby, "Do you remember that drunkard who knocked over your book? The night that we met?"

"Oh yes." Her eyes turned to slits. "Him."

"That was Cane."

Astoria's face was unreadable for a time. "Are you saying the reason you and I ever met was because of Cane?"

"Of course not." Draco sighed, exasperated. "But I'd been watching you for almost a month. I couldn't gather up the courage to talk to you… you were so beautiful, and I…" He glanced down to his arm. "I didn't think you'd ever accept me the way I was." He jerked his eyes away from his contemptible Mark hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt and instead focused on her. "But you did. You did, and that… that was different. Ever since I received this wretched thing, I've only ever received glares and death threats. But by then, Astoria, it was too late. I was in too deep - with Cane. With my obsession to remove the Mark. And I didn't take into account of your feelings. I was… careless, with you. And for that, I'm s-s…"

"Yes?" Astoria perked up. "Go on."

"Oh, you know what I'm trying to say."

"Say it."

"I'm sorry, okay?!" He shouted, a bit more forceful than he intended. Scorpius became excited and yanked on Draco's ear, bringing him back down from his shaking fear. He snuggled Scorpius up near his chest and hugged him. "I'm sorry I didn't take your feelings into consideration. I'm sorry that I didn't show you the love you deserved. And I'm sorry I didn't confide in you. You were my wife. I should have trusted you."

"Yes." She nodded slowly. "You should have."

Draco glanced down to Scorpius and kissed him on top of his white-blonde head. "But when Scorpius came into being… I found myself again. I want you to know that. I need you to know - you've given me something that… that I couldn't have ever found without you. Our son." Draco could feel his voice get higher, and he coughed, pushing the anxiety back down. "So, even though our marriage failed, that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate you, even now. You gave me him. And… and that's something I can't thank you enough for. In a way, you saved me, Tori." Draco slowly arose from his chair and set Scorpius in Astoria's arms. "And you're right…" he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I do care about Hermione."

Astoria choked back a few tears, absently stroking Scorpius on the back soothingly. "Tell me about her."

"What?"

"Describe her to me."

"I… I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Try it."

He sighed, slipping his fingers further into the fabric of his pockets. Where would he even begin to describe Hermione Granger? "She's intelligent, for a start. Even more so than myself. I've hardly come across that sort of intellect in my life. It's refreshing. And even though she's very 'to-do' about most things, she's also… snarky."

"Snarky?"

"She quips back." The words began to spill out of his mouth before he could retract them. "And she's never given me grief about my Mark. At least, not to my face. She sees good in me, and I don't know how, but she does. She believes in me. She's never given up, even when I'd given up on myself. -She cares for Scorpius. She practically loves the boy."

"That's… good." Astoria nodded. "Go on."

"What more do you need to know, Tori? This feels odd. I don't like much talking about my new girlfriend to my ex-wife."

"Do you love her?"

"….What?" His face scrunched up. "I hardly think that-"

"Do. You. Love. Her?" Astoria didn't seem upset asking these words. They were genuine. She wanted to know.

"Our relationship is new, Tori. How the Hell could I already be in love with her?"

Astoria smirked. "I never said 'in love'. I said 'love.' Now ask yourself why you said that."

Draco reached up and scratched the side of his neck nervously. "You tricked me."

"I did."

"I…" He scowled. "That's low, Tori."

"Is it?" She laughed, a tear falling down her cheek. A happy one. A satisfied one. "I've never been one for taking the high road."

Draco, despite himself, cracked a smile. "You like her."

"I do." She nodded. "She's cheeky. She's not afraid to put someone in their place."

"No," he chuckled, "She's really not."

"Including you. -Which is good for you." Astoria stood from the table with Scorpius. "Maybe she'll keep you on track to a good life." She stepped forward and slowly kissed his cheek. Not in a romantic sense, Draco realized, but in approval. She was giving him her blessing. "I hope you remember to treat her the way you should have treated me."

"Astoria…"

She put a finger to his lips. "Shh. There's nothing left to say. You apologized. That's all I wanted." She smiled at him. "Now, let's go see Mr. Potter, shall we? You have some explaining to do to him."

Draco nodded, and Astoria removed her finger from his mouth. "Thanks, Tori."

"If we're going to be good parents to Scorpius, we… should stop fighting." She handed Scorpius off to Draco again and gathered her pea coat. "But you should know, I have a soft spot for that witch now. Should you ever break her heart, I'll hunt you down."

Draco smirked. "I wouldn't expect any less of you."


	23. Date With Diggle, Round 2

**It don't take much for the beast to bolt**

**A split second too late to bring it to a halt**

**You're hypnotized, your feet follow your shoes**

**It's kinda like, a cigarette smokin' you**

**Take it from me**

**When you start it's just a matter of time**

**Any minute you will cross that line**

**Take it from me**

**You never think about the price that you pay**

**Take it from me**

**It got a mind of its own and it stings**

**Take it from me**

**It got a mind of its own and it stings**

**"Take It From Me" by KONGOS**

* * *

Cane sits at his desk, scribbling on a bit of parchment as Draco stands over his cauldron, adding the last of his ingredients. There is a tension in the air between them, though to the untrained eye it might have gone easily missed.

"How close are you?" Cane asks, his dark eyes shifting between Draco and the man strapped to a gurney in the corner.

"If my calculations are correct, this should turn blue any moment. _Then_ it will be ready." Draco wipes a bit of sweat off his brow and is relieved when the potion turns a dark navy, like black water. He puts on his dragon hide gloves and sets to work ladling out the potion into tiny vials. Cane smiles as he watches.

"It glows just like the stone."

"No." Draco corrects. "The stone is more of a cobalt. This is-"

"Details, yes, I know." Cane rolls his eyes. "Can we expect results?"

Draco glances down to the unconscious man. "What did he do?"

Cane's silver eyebrows turn up in surprise. "You usually don't like to familiarize yourself with your experiments. Having a change of heart?"

Draco frowns, slipping a vile in between his gloved fingers. "We're close. I'm not changing my tune until I've perfected this."

"Alright." Cane rises from his chair, stalking across the room. His figure is lean - but not as lean as Draco's. It's written all over Draco's body: he hasn't been eating. Stress tugs under his eyes in the form of dark circles. He probably hasn't slept in days. Cane slips a pale hand on Draco's shoulder. "If you must know, he raped two muggles on the far side of London two weeks ago. - _At the same time_."

Draco gulps. A sweat bead drops from his brow.

"He deserves this," Cane whispers. "He's not worth your sympathy."

Draco nods, glancing down to the covered Mark on his arm. His face is riddled with questions; what makes his poor choices any less deserving of the pain that this man will endure? Yes, Draco has never raped anyone. Violating someone that way… it's despicable. But he had done terrible things in his life. He had come close to killing Dumbledore. He had let Voldemort and his father use him. He had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He had cost so many children their lives… Was that not as bad as a rapist?

"Do it," he tells Cane, watching his friend move to the gurney. He pulls the man's sleeve up and presses his wand to it. A mark forms. One with a triangle formed out of four diagonal lines parallel to each other. It's Cane's signature Mark. It's how they test Draco's theories. Cane himself wears the same Mark on the base of his neck, just above the collarbone. But it's just a tattoo, Cane has told him. It isn't a real Mark. Not like the ones that he brands on those he catches.

Draco holds the vile steady, though his hands want to shake, and joins Cane at his side. He's about to slip it into the man's mouth, but he falters. "I… I can't."

"Hmm?"

"I can't do it." Draco closes his eyes. "Every time I do this… it's like I'm tearing out a piece of someone's soul. How long before it's my own?"

"Don't get sentimental on me, Draco. These are criminals."

"So was I."

"Here." Cane conjures up a pair of dragon hide gloves and slips them on. "Give me the potion."

Draco does as he's told and backs away as Cane slips the blue potion into the man's mouth. Moments tick by. Long, painful, drawn out moments that eat away at Draco's soul. He closes his eyes and turns his head when the man suddenly screams out.

"Yes…" Cane hisses through his teeth, watching as the man squirms against his restraints. Draco's not watching, but if he were he'd see the man's eyes shoot open, bloodshot and pupils blown. He's screaming now, and Draco turns his back. He's ashamed. Cane claps his hands. "Draco, come look."

"No."

"You'll want to see this."

Draco turns his head over his shoulder and glances at the Mark. It's faded. Not quite removed, but faded. His entire body swivels on the spot and he stares down at Cane's Mark. "It's…"

"You're so close." Cane pats his friend on the back.

"What about him?" Draco asks. The man has passed out again, most likely from the pain.

"We'll see how he fares when he wakes up."

"You could just bring him back around," says Draco, nudging to a pouch on Cane's belt. He's referring to the sleeping powder. There was a night when Draco had been brave and had analyzed some. He wasn't able to decipher all of its contents, but there were quite a bit of illegal substances in it.

Can tosses the vial into a marked bin and slips the dragon hide gloves off of his hands. He strolls to his desk, pulls out a thick bottle of bourbon and pours Draco a glass. "A toast," he says as he pushes the glass into Draco's hand. "To your progress." They both swig down the alcohol and relish in the burn. Or at least Draco does. He rather enjoys the pain it gives his throat. He's not a masochist - he just thinks he deserves whatever is coming to him.

"Do you have a new toy for me?" Cane asks, setting his glass down on the table.

"Yes." Draco nods, leading Cane out of the room and into another. This one has cauldrons set up on work desks all around it. In the center, on a thick, wooden table sits a box. Cane watches as Draco approaches - it gives off a blue sheen. The closer Draco gets, the more it glows.

"A literal Pandora's box?" Cane muses, chuckling at the creativity.

"It's meant to steal your opponent's energy out of them slowly," Draco says. He waves his hand over the box, and his face grows sallow. Sweat drips down the sides of his temples. He jerks away, already feeling the effects. "In case there's a hostage situation, you can throw the box in and-"

"-It will weaken my opponent." Cane gives a nod of approval. "Quite ingenious."

"If I can pinpoint this on a smaller scale and isolate it," Draco says, his confidence rising. "I might be able to apply it to one single part of the body."

"Like your Mark."

"Like my Mark."

"Brilliant." Cane flashes his white teeth, his eyes darkening. Did Draco ever think he looked like a shark? No. A wolf. A furious, murderous wolf with a silver mane.

"I'm impressed, Draco. You've come a long way in the last three years."

Draco nods. He backs away from the box and rotates his shoulder. It aches, now that the magic has escaped it. One fall off of a broom during Quidditch practice and it's never been the same. It usually only hurts when it's raining, but the Pandora's Box has taken the magical used to numb it. He knows the magic will come back eventually, but he's weary of staying in this room any longer. "Let's leave. I have something I wish to discuss with you."

"Of course." Cane nods, and they retreat back into the first room. The man at the table looks terrible, and Draco sees a bit of blood dripping from his ear.

"Shite." He scrambles across the room and checks the man's pulse. Still beating, but very weak. "He needs to get to a hospital."

"No." Cane shakes his head. "That's too risky. I'll have one of my men tend to him."

"Bastian…" Draco bows his head. "I… I'm going to ask Astoria to marry me."

Cane raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. He watches his friend cross the room and pour himself another glass. He doesn't stop him. He watches Draco down the whole glass in three gulps.

"I love her."

"That's wonderful news," he smirks, though he doesn't sound that enthused. "Will I be invited to the wedding?"

"I'm tired of lying to her," Draco sighs, running his knuckles against the edge of the desk. He's breaking down, and Cane knows it. "She accused me of having a mistress the other night."

"Do you have a mistress?"

"This work is my only mistress."

"And she's a foul one, indeed."

"I can't keep lying to her."

"And you'll tell her what? That you've been experimenting on criminals? I'm sure that will go over quite well with the Missus."

Draco's faces jerks up and glares. "She loves me. And I love her."

"Yes. But you and I both know that she's ashamed of you, to an extent. You've told me as much. Didn't you confide in me that she won't even let you take your shirt off during-"

"-I know she hates this Mark." He rips up his sleeve and presents it. "And I know we're close… I just… don't know what to do."

"Keep progressing. You're on the cusp of greatness!"

Draco pours himself a third glass and pulls from his drink slowly. "You're right."

"I know I am."

"What… is it… _exactly_ that you do with my weapons I utilize for you?"

"I keep them stored for safekeeping. One of these days, I'm going to run the Ministry. Mark my words, Draco. And when I do, I'll implement all that we're doing."

"Yeah?" Draco scoffs. "And how exactly do you plan on running the Ministry, Bastian? With your good looks?"

"I _am_ rather fetching." Cane rubs his chin thoughtfully. They both laugh. When the laughter dies away, Cane's calm demeanor returns. "I love the box, Draco. I do. But when I requested something that could take away magic on a grander scale…"

Draco's eyes narrow unbenounced to him. "What you're asking me to do… replicating the stone's power… you're talking about turning wizards into squibs. Multiple wizards. At the same time. That's a fate worse than death for some."

"Perhaps," Cane's eyes also conformed to slits. "But imagine the power behind it."

"I'd rather not."

"Why are you so against this, Draco?"

"Because it's immoral. And I know that sounds rich coming from me, but there's just some lines even I can't cross."

"Draco-"

"-I'm going home for the evening."

"As you wish."

"And I won't be in tomorrow. I'll be celebrating my engagement with Astoria."

"How are you going to do it?"

"Tori has this thing for bakeries... I thought I might do it over brunch."

"You should put it in the top of her favorite pastry," Cane offers., "It's more romantic that way."

"Not down on one knee?"

"That gets overplayed."

"Maybe you're right." Draco slips off his gloves and picks up his jacket off of the coat rack. "I'll be seeing you, Bastian."

"And I you, Draco."

* * *

Potter jerked his head out of the pensieve first, then Draco followed. They stared at each other for a time in Harry's basement. Potter looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit down on his tongue and held it back. Draco's eyes slipped to the floor.

"So…" Potter said finally, "Cane wanted you to build something that could take away magic from an entire room full of wizards?"

Draco shook his head.

"An entire building?"

Again, his head shook.

"A city." Draco turned away. "He wants to take out an entire city. Wipe out all magic."

"Why would he want to do that?"

"How would I know? The sod thought he was going to run the Ministry someday. Maybe he wanted a magical nuke to frighten the masses."

"He never shared his intentions with you?"

"I never wanted to know." Draco pulled his eyes back to Potter's and stared. Silver met green. "I just wanted the ability to remove my Mark. I didn't want to ask questions. I just wanted to keep my head low and work."

"Were there others like you, Malfoy? Others that experimented?"

"Not like me. But there were others."

"Do you know any of their names?"

"No." He shook his head. "I don't."

Potter walked over to a desk in the back corner and drew four diagonal slashes. Cane's mark. "I'll take this into the Ministry. See if there's anyone in the muggle world or wizarding world that is reported to have this on their body."

"So… this helped?"

"Yes, Malfoy. It helped."

Draco smirked.

* * *

"And… that's another strike for you…" Greg stared, slack jawed, as the fallen pins were rutted into the space behind the lane. "How are you this good?"

"I told you," Hermione smiled, strolling back up to her chair to mark her strike on the board. "I'm just that talented."

"And apparently I'm not quite as good as I remember," he laughed, looking down at his own score, which was an eighty-seven. It was nothing compared to Hermione's two hundred and forty. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Greg?" Hermione turned her knees towards him. Being out with Diggle had made her apprehensive at first, but he had been a perfect gentleman the entire date. He had held the door open for her, paid for their concessions and shoes, and had even won her a tiny blue bear out of the crane machine in the arcade. If Hermione didn't know Diggle to be an insolent pawn of Cane's, she might have even said it was one of the better dates she'd ever had.

Diggle pried his eyes up from her chest and said, "I am terribly sorry for Thursday."

The duel. Yes, Hermione remembered that quite well. She relaxed her face and tried to put on her best smile. "What do you mean?"

"I know I took it too far with Malfoy," he told her, wringing his hands together, "I just… I don't like the way he looks at you, you know?"

"How does he look at me?"

"Frankly?" He clicked his tongue. "Like he wants to bed you."

The blush on Hermione's cheeks was quite real as she widened her eyes. "What?"

"Surely you must have realized by now?" Diggle asked. "He's practically drooling from the moment you walk into the room."

She couldn't deny it without coming off as insincere, so she said, "Interestingly enough, he's said the same thing about you."

"Has he?"

"Isn't it strange how you both dislike each other, but not one of you has considered what my feelings are?"

"And what are your feelings, Hermione?" He was staring at her quizzically. It was almost adorable, like a man who simply wanted an answer. And perhaps he was at this moment.

"I'm not sure," she answered him., "You broke my friend's hand in a fist brawl." She decided to be daring. "I've never seen that sort of spell before. The one you used on Draco's hand."

Diggle shifted an eyebrow. "Haven't you?"

"No. And if I didn't know any better…" She played her role well; part coy, part entranced. "I'd say… oh this is silly of me… I just… was it Gray Magic?"

Greg's green eyes blinked back at her. She could see his façade slip momentarily. "Gray Magic, Miss Granger?"

"It's just this silly thing I read about in a book once." She glanced down at her fingers. "You know. In the restricted section of Hogwarts."

"I see…"

"I've never dabbled in it. There's not many books that even cover it, but… I've always found the allure of it… stimulating." She brought her eyes back up to his and reached out to touch his knee. He tensed. "I mean, someone who could perform something like that… well… I've always had a fantasy…"

"Really, now?" Greg scooted closer, hanging just barely off his chair. "And in this fantasy…?"

"I shouldn't say." She acted bashful, placing a hand on her cheek. Greg reached out and placed his hand on top of hers, sliding it up his knee just a little.

"And if I said it was?"

"Grey magic, you mean?"

Diggle nodded. "Hypothetically, of course."

"Well," She leaned closer, the bowling game forgotten. "I suppose I would find it… very… arousing." She pushed her shoulder blades together - something Ginny had taught her when they were back in Hogwarts. Her chest puffed out, and Diggle's eyes grazed over her creamy skin. "Wouldn't you agree, Greg?"

He licked his bottom lip. "Quite."

He leaned forward, slipping a hand on Hermione's knee. She moved to jerk away, but caught herself and stayed put. She had him so close to confessing to something. She just needed to be patient. His breath smelled like peppermint as he brought his face inches from hers. But he wasn't chewing gum this time. He simply smelled like it. Her nose tingled.

"Hermione… if I let you in on a secret, would you keep it?"

She smiled. "Of course, Greg. Anything."

"I've got some… books… back at my place…" He touched her nose with his nose, his fingers tightening around her leg. Hermione wondered what they must look like to the rest of the bowling alley. Probably like a couple of trashy twenty somethings who were ready to fornicate on bowling lane number ten. "They belonged to a friend of mine. I think… you'd find them… stimulating." He brushed his lips across Hermione's, and for a split second her eyes fluttered closed. There was something about the way he was touching her, something about the way his lips felt across her skin that made her want to kiss him back. Her eyes went wide and she jerked away. Greg Diggle raised an eyebrow, but didn't react otherwise as he sat back up straight again.

"How did you…?" She stared at him and touched her fingertips to her lips.

"How did I what?"

"You… you _made_ me want to kiss you." She frowned. How was that possible? Hermione didn't doubt her feelings. The moment she had jerked away, she wanted nothing more to do with him. So how had he coaxed her into feeling a moment of attraction?

"Hermione, I didn't _make_ you do anything." He laughed. "Whatever you're feeling - that was because you _wanted_ to."

She stood up. "I wish to go home now, Greg."

"Hermione-"

" _Now_."

"Alright." Diggle stood up and slipped his coat over her shoulders. "Alright, Hermione. Whatever you want." He paid their tab and walked her out to his car. As he opened the door and Hermione climbed inside, she felt a bit of herself slip. She could still feel the tingle on her lips. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. And she didn't want to stick around to find out why.


	24. Pizza, Icecream, & Lemons

* * *

**And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies**

**The beautiful kind, making up for lost time,**

**Taking flight, making me feel right**

**I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now**

**Come back and tell me why**

**I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time, oh, oh, oh.**

**And meet me there tonight**

**And let me know that it's not all in my mind.**

**"Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran**

* * *

"How was your date?" Draco asked Hermione as she stepped through the floo and into the den of the Manor. He was seated at the desk in the back corner, strumming his fingers over Ron's files. There was a crease between his brows as he stared down at the blank pages. How long had he been here, she wondered?

"It was terrible," she replied. She could still feel the tingle on her lips, even though it had been over an hour since Greg Diggle had attempted to kiss her. She had gone home and scrubbed herself thoroughly to remove any trace of him, but he still lingered. It frightened her. Whatever magic he had used, it was strong. "How was your evening with Harry?"

"It was terrible." Draco smirked. He turned around in his chair, draping his legs over the sides and resting his chin on the headrest. He no longer wore his traditional attire; he was dressed simple: a dark grey button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and black slacks. His Mark demanded attention against the ivory tone of his skin. As if he knew that her eyes had wandered there, he gave a drawn out stretch that pushed his arms far up in the air, pulling the skin of his them tight. Then he smiled. "You changed your clothes."

"Of course I did," she frowned, glancing down at her blue pencil skirt and white blouse that plumed at the sleeves. Her hair fell in curls again around her cheeks, and Astoria's makeup had been washed away. "I wanted to look presentable for our dinner."

"You look beautiful," he told her quietly. "Come here."

She crossed the room, her Mary-Janes clicking along the stone floor. She had something tucked behind her back, and Draco noticed. Without a word, she smiled and pulled a tiny, blue bear out into the open. "Diggle won this for me on our date."

"Did he?" His voice was amused.

"I thought we might burn it."

He cracked a grin. "That's one of the sexiest things you've ever said to me."

"Astoria?"

"She and Scorpius are staying with Potter for the night. We weren't sure if Diggle would try to come in when he brought you back."

"No… I wouldn't let him."

"Something wrong?"

"No." She shook her head. She knew she should talk about it, but she didn't want to spoil the evening, so she smiled and insisted, saying, "I'm just glad to see you."

He reached a lazy arm out and pulled her close to the chair. Hermione tossed the tiny bear onto the table and bent over to kiss Draco. But when her lips were less than an inch away, something _stung_. It felt as if a needle was pricking her over her lips again and again. She pulled away, wincing. "What?"

"I… I don't know." She touched her fingers to her mouth. "It… hurt."

Draco pursed his lips. "What hurt?"

"When I went to kiss you. It… _hurt_."

He pulled himself out of the chair and walked around it to stand in front of her. "Describe it."

"Like needles… or a bee sting. Just here." She pointed to the tip of her cupid's bow on her upper lip.

"Hmm…" He reached out and touched her cheek. "Does this hurt?"

"No." She sighed, grateful.

"And this?" He fingers his fingers through her hair and massaged the scalp behind her ears.

"No. Mmm. That feels nice."

"And… this?" He leaned forward slowly, drawing out the moment. When his lips were no longer visible to her because of how close he actually was, she felt the sting again. She tried to push past it, allowing his lips to brush against hers. Pain. Immense pain like lighting or fire. She jerked away fiercely, crying out.

Draco looked half horrified, half mystified as he backed up a few spaces. There was an overall look of annoyance. "Well… this is new."

"Greg… he…" She rubbed at her mouth. At the mention of Diggle, her lips cooled over in that defining tingle. "He did this."

Draco perched an eyebrow. "I have a feeling there's a good story behind this." He crossed his arms.

"Don't give me that look," she frowned. "I'm completely innocent in this. I was trying to obtain information from Greg," the tingle increased, "And he might have tried to kiss me."

" _Oh?_ _Did_ he kiss you?"

"No. I didn't let it get that far."

"How far did you let it go?"

"Draco, stop giving me that look."

"What look?"

"That jealous look."

"I'm not jealous," he scoffed.

"Good. Then you won't overreact when I tell you he…" She wasn't entirely sure how to describe it, "He did manage to make skin to skin contact." Her explanation was scientific and detached.

"I'm beginning to believe you don't know what a kiss is."

"He didn't kiss me. He put his lips to mine. For a second. And…" And she had wanted it. Despite everything she knew about Diggle, he had somehow made her _want_ him. "I think he must have cursed me." She started to pace. "He was so close to giving me details about these books he has tucked away at his home. It was in the heat of the moment -he just…" She began to panic. If Greg Diggle was capable of making her lust for him on a primal level, what else could he convince her to do? Her mind began to race through each and every spell in her arsenal that might explain what he had done to her, but none of them quite fit the bill. "When I get close to kissing you, it hurts. And when I think about Greg, my lips tingle. It's some sort of curse. It has to be."

"You know, that must be a new record somewhere. Cock blocking from miles away," Draco grumbled. "Well, I'm not going to let him ruin this." He grabbed up her hand and began to tug her in the direction of the door.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"We still have a date, don't we?" He managed a smirk, though it wasn't lit with life like it normally was. "So we can't kiss. That isn't the basis of what we have." He pushed through the grand doors of the Den and led her down the hallway. Hermione could see tiny candles flickering along the top of the ceiling. They led a path down a separate hall that led to the kitchen. Draco stopped at the entryway and his face fell soberly. "I know that you don't like the dining room. That's why I've avoided it every time you've been here." He trailed kisses from her hand up her arm. "So I set something up in the kitchens." He pulled her in and Hermione's breath caught.

It was so simple, and yet so thoughtful. Draco had transfigured a small table in the center of the room out of the kitchen island. A blue tablecloth draped over the edges, and three simple white wax candles sat in the center of it, each a different length. On either side of the table were two chairs, two glasses of wine and a plate of-

"Is that… pizza?" Hermione laughed, placing a hand to her mouth. Draco immediately looked shaken, mistaking her laugh of joy for teasing. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Potter's wife told me it was your favorite muggle food."

"It is." She laughed some more and hugged his arm. "It's perfect, Draco. Thank you."

Whatever disappointment he had felt was instantly replaced with pride. He smirked, jutted out his chin, and led her over to the table, where he held out her chair for her. When she was comfortable, he took his seat on the other side and sat down.

"Have you ever tried it?" She asked.

"Never." He shook his head, looking as if he were afraid it might poison him. Hermione noted that it was pepperoni with pineapple. Her favorite.

"You should try some."

"Ladies first."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Together, then?"

They both picked up their slices and took a bite. It was the good stuff, Hermione noted. Freshly baked, probably from a local shop in London. Ginny would know. She'd have to thank her for giving him the advice. She glanced up at him; his eyes were wide as he chewed, and he gave a quizzical look.

"It's… good."

"Of course it is."

"Muggles eat this all the time?"

"Well, not all the time. It's very fattening."

"Good thing we both have fast metabolisms." He took another bite and closed his eyes, savoring the taste. "This might be one of the greatest things I've ever tasted."

Hermione laughed and sipped from her glass of wine.

"Aside from you," he added.

She spat out a bit of wine in her glass and coughed. He looked satisfied as he leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.

"This is nice, isn't it." His words weren't a question. They were a reflection of his emotions. "I was a bit worried that we wouldn't hit it off very well just sitting around without acting on any sexual tension."

"Is that all you think we have? Sexual tension?"

"No." He stared intently at her. "At least, I was hoping it wasn't."

"I think…" She chewed another bite of her pizza, choosing the right words to express herself. "It's been such a hard time after losing Ronald… I thought I might never find something like that again. You know?"

"Mhmm." He nodded slowly.

Hermione straightened her posture. "When I'm around you, I forget myself. It's not that the pain isn't there, because it is, but you make it bearable. Even when you're making a complete ass out of yourself. Which is often, I might add. -How's the hand?"

"Better." He pulled it from behind his head and flexed it. "Still is a bit numb. It actually was lucky that he did it to my wand hand- it's the same arm that I dislocated my shoulder back in Hogwarts."

"I don't remember that."

"You wouldn't. We didn't pay much attention to each other back then, did we?" He mimicked her and sat up straight. "It was just a practice, and a bludger came out of nowhere and knocked me off my broom. Still hurts when the weather gets bad."

"So why was it lucky? That it was the same side?"

"I don't know. Maybe the idea of having pain on both sides of my body just doesn't sound like something I could handle. I have to use a bit of magic every now and again to ease the pain. I'll have to add it to all of my arm now."

"I'm sorry about what Greg did to you."

"You didn't tell him to do it, did you?"

"No."

"Then stop apologizing for an imbecile."

They ate their food quietly after that, occasionally talking about training and practice. When they were both full, Draco spelled the plates away and transfigured the kitchen island back to its original form. They still sipped on their wine as Hermione conjured up two stools and they sat down at it.

"This is driving me up the wall," Draco said.

"What is?"

"That I can't kiss you."

"You said it yourself, kissing isn't the focus of our relationship." She said the last word slow, eyes careful and studying. She waited for any response from him, and she got it in the form of a soft smile. It was a rare occasion, she thought, seeing him actually _smile_. He was much more handsome when he did. It softened his sharp features -made him more approachable. He no longer resembled his father in those moments. He was his own man allowing himself to feel.

He reached over and hooked his fingers between hers. "It's a relationship, then?"

"Wasn't it?"

"It's just you haven't called it that before." His eyes drifted down to their hands. "I was beginning to think that you'd changed your mind."

"Why would I?"

"Hard to say. Just a feeling."

"Well, your feeling was wrong." She scooted closer on her stool. "When Ron… passed… it was hard. For a long time. Everyone wants to give their condolences, you know? But no one ever actually said anything that I hadn't heard a thousand times before."

"Sorry for your loss. Our condolences. If you need anything…" He listed them off. "Yeah. I remember when Crabbe… When they held his funeral, it's all anyone would say."

Hermione could hardly feel bad for the thought of Crabbe, but she knew that it had bothered Draco to see his one-time friend die tragically of his own foolishness. They had talked about it the first time they had ever sat at this counter. He had told her he was glad she hadn't died that night. It hadn't occurred to her that someone he cared about _had_. He understood her pain to an extent. It was refreshing. The only other person who understood it fully was Harry.

"But," she continued, "You've never said any of that to me."

He smirked sourly. "Why say something that I don't mean? I didn't know Weasley well enough to mourn him. He was a bit of a tosser in school. At least, that's how I remember him. But he meant something to you."

"He meant everything."

"And now he's gone." He sat his wine glass down and his face grew stern. "I've been trying all evening to think of a password Diggle would use to open up Weasley's file. Nothing has worked."

"What if we're looking at this all wrong?" Hermione asked, mind swimming. "Perhaps the answer isn't something Diggle would say. He works for Cane, of that we're sure. What would be something Cane would say? A password he would use?"

She watched the cogs in Draco's mind turn. He pulled out his wand and whispered, " _Accio_ files." After a moment, the folder flew into the room and landed crookedly on the counter. Draco ran his fingers over file and opened it up to the top blank page.

'Figured me out yet?' It asked.

" _Pandora_."

'Closer.' It replied.

Draco's face shot up and exchanged glances with Hermione.

"Try again," she encouraged.

" _Pandora's Stone_."

'Colder. Oh dear.'

"Fuck sakes." He rubbed his tired eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow, " _Cobalt_."

The paper flooded with ink. Pictures, words, scribbled notes at the bottom. He had done it. He had cracked the code.

"How did you…?"

"I used to correct Cane on the color of the stone all the time. It got on his last nerve. Probably why I did it." He smirked, triumphant. "Tosser thought he could outsmart me. Please."

Hermione plucked the first page off the top, while Draco started the second. The first page wasn't much -Ron's biography. Height. Weight. Age. Marital status… Hermione blinked back a tear when she saw her married name next to spouse: Hermione Weasley. She hadn't used that name in so long.

"What have you got on the second page?" she asked. "Draco?" She glanced up. "Draco?" Draco was staring down at the page, his expression unreadable. She reached for the parchment in his hand, but he jerked it away. "Draco, what's-"

"The cod." He turned the paper to her.

'One down. Five to go.'

Hermione sighed. "Well, we're one step closer. That's something."

Draco nodded. "I just have to figure out five more passwords. That's not difficult at all. It only took us weeks to crack this one," he sneered and gathered up the files. "I fancy another glass. You?"

"Yes." Hermione gave a sigh of relief. Finally, the wheels were turning. She watched him set the files down next to the sink and he plucked up the bottle of wine. He poured them both a glass, sat back down, and smirked. When he said nothing, Hermione fidgeted in her seat. "What?"

"I really shouldn't say…" He said. There was a mischievous look in his eye.

"Why do I have a feeling that doesn't matter…"

"I got us one step closer to unlocking Diggle's secrets. That deserves a reward. -Besides, you never did thank me for saving your life this last week."

"Draco, I told you I wanted to take things slow."

"Mhmm." He took a pull from the wine. "I know."

"Then… what do you want?"

"Well, I'd ask for a kiss, but seeing as how we've been put in time out…"

"I'll have a talk about it with Diggle tomorrow."

"You really think that's wise?"

"I have to pretend I like him. That doesn't mean I can't stand up for myself."

"You're frightening when you're determined, you know that?"

She smiled. "So I've heard."

Draco swirled his wine around in his glass. "I thought maybe as a reward, I'd settle on a secret of yours. Something you don't share with the rest of the world."

"What?" She laughed nervously.

He explained. "I'm never going to try to be like Weasley. I want you to know that now. That being said… what was it like? The happy times?"

She felt a cold chill set down her spine. "I don't know if this is the best time…"

"If you can't talk about it, then you aren't ready for what comes next." He sipped his wine. Hermione thought about it, and realised he was right. For so long, she had tried to hold her memories back because of how much it pained her. But… she wanted to progress. She didn't want to keep visiting his grave with a heavy heart and bloodshot eyes. She wanted to feel happy again, and Draco gave that to her. It surprised her in the short amount of time that they had reconnected just how she had grown attached to him. She didn't want to think what it would be like if he were to leave. So, she conceded, taking a long pull from her wine before she answered.

"What do you want to know?"

"What did you two do for fun?"

She bit down on her lip, thinking. "We liked to watch movies… listen to music… dance." She smiled to herself. "Ron had two left feet, but he would still put on an old record and we'd dance half the night away in our little home." She felt a warmness down in her stomach. It astounded her. She had thought it would hurt, but these feelings brought life into her. "What did you and Astoria do for fun?"

"I'd rather not talk about Tori right now."

"That's hardly fair. And eye for an eye."

"Don't forget the second part of that statement: leaves the whole world blind."

"Draco."

"Alright. Fine. -We used to read together. Not the same book, but just sit on the bed and read for hours."

"That sounds nice."

"It was. Until it wasn't. But there was also the sex…" Hermione choked on her wine. He stared at her as he set his glass on the counter, smirking. "Now I'm curious about something, while we're on the subject of Weasley. How did he fair? You know. In the bedroom department?"

"We are _not_ going to talk about Ron's -performance!" She felt the blush crawl on her cheeks.

"I give Astoria an eight out of ten," Draco encouraged. "A for effort. Technique was alright. But she lacked creativity." He chuckled as he watched Hermione's vacant glare. "You alright there, Granger?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "Ron was a perfect gentleman."

"I didn't ask if he was a gentleman. All men can be gentlemen when it comes down to it. I'm asking -you know, how he got your potion brewing."

"I know perfectly well what you mean."

"And?"

"And…" She didn't know why, but she told him. "He was gentle. Took his time. _Wasn't_ pushy."

"I see." He nodded, eyebrows poised. "So if you were to describe him in, say, ice cream terms, would the flavor vanilla come to mind?"

Hermione couldn't help it. She laughed. "Vanilla?"

"Yes."

"I suppose… there were times when he was quite vanilla. But he had quirks. Sometimes he could throw some chocolate chips into the mix."

"Really?"

"Yes. Ron wasn't as plain as you'd think."

"And if you were to describe me?" He leaned forward in his stool, resting his hands on her knees. "What flavor do you think I would be?" The question was innocent enough, but the way he delivered it sent a heatwave over her skin. His thumbs curved over the hem of her skirt and gathered it up, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs. With her skirt properly bunched, he slid his fingers down to the stool and tugged her close so that her knees pressed up against his stool and his legs gathered around hers, caging her. He tilted his head, allowing his breath to tickle her cheek. "Ice cream flavor, Miss Granger?"

She gave it a good thought. Draco was bitter, destructive and demanding. He liked to take control and boss her around. Definitely some dark in there… like dark chocolate. But he soothed her soul, and never took anything that she didn't want to give him. He was refreshing and stimulating. And there was a fun, cheeky side to him that made her laugh even when she knew it was not appropriate. She smiled when she revealed her answer. "Chocolate Mint with a bit of cookie dough."

"That sounds like a tall order."

"You don't seem one to displease."

"You're right. I'm not." He scooted forward and began to trail light kisses down her neck. "And I'm anything but vanilla."

She sighed as his hands found their way back to her thighs again, pushing them apart slowly. "And me?" she whispered. His teeth were busy grazing along the pulse point just behind her ear.

"You?" His fingers had found her hair, running lazily along her scalp, massaging. "You're my favorite flavor. The one that I could _lick_ all day long."

She groaned softly at his words, closing her eyes. The desire in her built up with each passing moment. It was difficult not to scoop his face up and kiss him, but she knew that doing that would bring about physical pain. And she most certainly didn't want that. She reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt for support, and Draco took it as a sign to continue.

"Do you remember," he whispered, cradling the back of her head with his fingertips before his tongue traced the outer shell of her ear, "The first day you sat in this kitchen?"

"Mmmmh… mhmmm…"

"Do you remember how nervous you were when I put Scorpius to bed? How you thought it was inappropriate for us to work together with my wife gone?"

She wasn't quite sure where this was going, and her eyes opened. He was still busy playing with her hair, giving it a firm tug.

"And I assured you," he continued, "That we weren't going to start passionately fornicating on the counter?"

Oh boy…

"I take it all back." He plucked her by the hips and set her on the counter, pressing between her legs with his hips. The counter wasn't terribly tall, and Hermione realised with a leap of excitement that she was the perfect height sitting on the counter top for him to rest between her legs. Draco's eyes were glazed with attraction, and his breathing came in shallow pants as he gripped her pelvic bones. "I want to fuck you until you're screaming my name and _only_ my name. How does that sound?"

"I'd love that," she teased him, slipping a hand behind his neck and grazing her nails down his spine. They both stared at each other, wanting to crash their mouths together and release all of the frustrations they felt. Hermione could tell it was bothering him just as much as it was her. "Let's play a game."

"A game?" He smirked at the challenge. "Do tell."

"Never have I ever. Have you ever played?"

He shook his head.

"The game is simple. One of us starts by saying something we've never done. If the other has done it, they have to remove an article of clothing."

"Are you trying to get me naked, Hermione?" He chuckled. "Alright. I'm game. Ladies first."

"Never have I ever gotten a divorce."

His eyes narrowed. "That's cheating." But he didn't fuss, simply kept one firm hand next to her hip as he reached down and slipped off one of his black, polished shoes and tossed it behind him. "Never have I ever bested you in Transfiguration class."

"Touché." She reached for a gold bracelet around her wrist and tossed it behind him next to his shoe. "Maybe we should try a bit harder. We'll run out of clothing quickly if this keeps up."

He kissed her below her jaw, just once. "That's the idea, isn't it?"

"Never have I ever had sex in the Slytherin Common Room." Draco leaned up hungrily, but he didn't remove a single bit of his attire. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, that's one rumor that I can finally put to rest."

"There was a rumor?" He grinned. "No, Hermione. I never was quite as daring back then as I am now. Now if you had said in the Slytherin dorms…" His fingers danced under the hem of her shirt and slid up her stomach, finally resting across her heart. "My turn."

"Your turn," she nodded.

"Never have I ever stayed a prude until I was married."

It was Hermione's turn to sit still, and it was his turn to look to her, stunned. "You're full of surprises, Granger."

"Just because I like to take my time with a man doesn't make me prude."

"Clearly. You didn't take much time with me, did you?" He scraped his nails across her chest carefully, not applying enough pressure to leave marks but enough to make Hermione wriggle on the counter.

"There's an exception to every rule," She said quietly, her eyes never leaving his. Draco licked his lips absently in response. "Never have I ever been intimate in a public surrounding."

Draco removed his other shoe and both of his socks. "Multiple times," he whispered, dipping his head into the crook of her neck, "Never got caught, though. Never have I ever skinny dipped."

Hermione laughed, tugging her other shoe off her foot. Draco raised his head, touching nose to nose with her.

"Oh? _Do_ tell."

"Another time." She forgot herself, dipping her lips to meet his. The burning was worth it for the feeling of his mouth on hers and the taste of the wine on his tongue. When the pain became unbearable, she jerked away, flushed. "Never have I ever wanted you so badly before."

Draco smirked and reached up to the top button of his shirt, releasing it from his loop. He repeated this motion over and over again to each button, eyes set on hers. Hermione reached down to help him with the last one, their fingers sliding over each other's. Draco chuckled and allowed Hermione to slip his shirt over his shoulders and off of his arms. She drowned herself in his pale skin and lean muscles, taking in to account every training scar and every scattered freckle. Her leg curved around his waist and jerked him forward until the zipper of his trousers pressed up against the fabric of her undergarments.

"Never have I ever touched myself to the thought of you."

Hermione smiled coyly. "You and I both know that's not true."

"Oh, yes. You're right. -Guess we both should take off some clothing, then."

"You planned that out," she said, reaching down to her shirt and pulling it off over her head, revealing her cream colored bra. It wasn't flashy like the one she wore for Diggle, but you wouldn't have guessed that Draco gave two flips about it by the way his eyes raked over her breasts.

"I did," he answered her, reaching down to his belt, unhinging it and slipping it out of the loops of his pants. He gripped it within his hands and trailed it up Hermione's long legs, against the wetness pooling in her panties. "Never have I ever been spanked in the sexual sense." He waited patiently for her answer. Hermione's heart began to race as she sat still. When he was thoroughly convinced she wasn't going to remove anything, he sighed an anxious breath like he was being rewarded with a gift. "Truly?"

"N-No…" she whispered, nervous and fervent. "And that was my turn you just stole."

"So?"

"So, those are the rules."

"I don't care about rules. You and I both know that." He took his free hand and traced his fingers over her lips. "What would you say if I bent you over my lap and showed you how much I don't care for the rules?"

A fire lit up within Hermione, and the dirty images swimming through her head burned a hole in any prude qualities she still clung to. She nodded feverishly, and Draco grabbed her violently off of the counter, fingers digging into her hips as he set her swiftly onto the floor. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, her collar bone, anywhere he could get a taste of her before he pulled away and propped himself up on the counter top and tossed away the belt. He scooted back just a little, so that the bottom half of his legs dangled off the edge but his lap was very much a sturdy frame against the counter. He patted his lap and smirked suggestively. Hermione, forgoing all of the rules and her need to take things slow, shimmied out of her skirt, leaving only her lacy blue panties. She walked up to the counter and pulled herself up to sit beside him. Draco slipped back further on the counter, until the entire length of his legs were flush against it. Hermione took in a deep breath and scooped her legs up over the counter, then spread herself across his lap with her stomach resting on his thighs and her legs drawn up behind her. Her elbows rested just at the edge of the counter, giving her a firm stance. Draco chuckled approvingly, and he placed one hand on the back of her thigh while the other curved around her neck and gripped tight.

"Too much?" He asked.

Hermione shook her head timidly.

"You'll let me know if it is?"

She nodded.

"Good girl." He trailed his fingertips up the back of her legs until they met the curved flesh of her backside. There, he cupped her full with his palm and gave her ass a good squeeze. "Never have I ever had such a beautiful woman spread across my lap before." The comment made her ears burn in wonder and her pulse race. Draco cradled her neck gentler as he leaned over and whispered against the back of her head, "I want you to know that I mean that. You're exquisite, Hermione." She closed her eyes as she bathed in the glow of his words, but the moment was cut short by the sudden sting of his hand being brought down with a firm smack against her buttocks. Heat- it was so warm, suddenly, and she could feel the burning of his handprint on her. She sighed. It was… relieving. The sudden sting etched away at her initial nervousness, and now all she craved was to feel it again.

 _Smack_. Another good swat that rippled heatwaves over her body. Hermione gave a small whimper, and she felt Draco's arousal twitch against her stomach. His throat made a sound something between a growl and a groan, and he tugged her panties down over the burning skin of her cheeks until the material rested just under the curve of her bum. His fingers played with her, palming the supple skin and massaging over the stinging nerve endings.

"Again," she whispered, reaching up with one of her hands to encourage his fingers tighter around her throat. She had never thought she would want something like this; the thought of losing control to someone was always intimidating. Her and Ron had tried it once, but it was sloppy and unsure, and it felt more like they were forcing it than a natural dominating encounter. But with Draco, everything felt in place. He was always so unsure of himself in other aspects of life, but here, between the intimacy, this is where he excelled. He shared his soul this way, she realised. This was how he showed affection, by giving a woman the fantasies she so desired, even if she didn't know it. He got off on the pleasure of it all.

Draco lifted his hand off of her ass cheek for a moment to unhinge the hook of her bra. Hermione felt it slip down her arms, and her breasts felt the cool temperature of the kitchen air. Draco's hands stroked down her back, almost like he was petting her, before he dug his nails in and quickly clawed to her tailbone. Hermione closed her eyes, hissing.

"Too much?" he asked in that sultry tone of his that felt like he was grinding ice with fire in the base of his throat.

"Perfect," she replied, "More."

He obliged, chuckling as he swatted her ass a few more times for good measure. Each time his hand was brought down against her, Hermione felt herself being pushed out into the current of ecstasy. Her head grew foggy. Nothing else mattered but his hands on her and the satisfied way he breathed against her, as if he could get off on her sighs and moans alone. When Hermione could stand the pressure building within her no longer, she arched her back and her ass curved up into the air to meet his hand. Draco stopped mid slap and rested his palm delicately along her backside.

"What do you want, Hermione?" He teased, palming her cheeks slowly.

"I… w-want…" She tried to form the words, but they were fleeting images that she couldn't produce into speech. There were so many things she wanted him to do. His fingers, his prick, his tongue, his entire body spun around in her head until she had to push it all aside and concentrate on what she needed _here_ and _now_. "Need you… inside me…"

"What part of me do you want inside you, love?" He slipped his middle finger under the lacy underwear of hers and began to trace along her slick folds. "Do you want my fingers? My cock?"

"All of it," she whispered breathlessly.

His finger slipped lower, rubbing her clit. Hermione threw her head forward as she moaned. Draco teased her a bit longer, polishing her nub with quick, tight circles before he curved his finger and slipped it into her. Hermione saw stars, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep back the heavy groan that she so desperately wanted to release. Finally, he was inside her. Finally, she could feel him fill her up with his fingers. He worked his finger in and out of her, drawing out the moment, before slipping a second and then a third. Hermione's legs spread farther apart, and Draco took the opportunity to pump his fingers quicker inside of her. The vibration of his fingers pulsed through her entire body. Her mouth fell open as she lay slack against his fingers around her neck. Each moment built another brick of lust between them. Each time his fingers left her, she felt lonely and empty. Every time he pressed back inside of her, she thought her world might burst. And when he withdrew his fingers all together, Hermione whimpered.

"Shhh…" He told her, and she could feel him draw his soaked fingers down her back. The sensation was warm and cold and _hot_. She felt him undo his pants button and zipper, and she sat up to watch as he released himself from his trousers. His silver eyes watched her playfully as she took in the sight of him leaned back on the counter with his hand on his prick and pink on his cheeks. His mouth was partially open, slack in lust and want. Hermione shrugged off her bra the rest of the way from her arms, scooted her panties off of her ankles, and climbed onto his lap. Draco encouraged her by resting a hand against her hip and saying, "Well, what will you do now?"

"In me," she mumbled half coherently as she reached down and gripped him tight in her hand to position him at against her folds. "Want you… in me." And then she dropped herself onto him and closed her eyes. She felt the head of his cock push into her slowly and then all at once, filling her up and completing her. Her head fell back. Draco hissed a breath of relief. They moved against each other, the coolness of the countertop mixing with the warm heat of their bodies. Hermione didn't think she'd ever want the feeling of anyone else beneath her ever again.

"Goddamn…" His breath brushed against the side of her cheek as he moved her hips to a steady rhythm. Their bodies swayed together in time with their hearts. With each moment, Hermione felt her heart slipping out of her chest. There were just some moments that were defining, even if they were small. And here, on top of Draco's kitchen countertop, was a moment she would never forget. Draco's hands searched over her body, from her back to her stomach to her breasts and finally gripping her wrists and pulling them behind her back. "Fuck me," he demanded.

Hermione could only think to gratify him, moving her hips gracefully against his own and taking in the sensation of his cock hitting her at just the right spot. "Oh." She gasped and did it again. "Yessss…"

Draco leaned up and lapped hungrily at her nipples, stimulating between tender kisses and sultry bites. He was building her up, nibble by nibble, to get her to fall like a tower of dominos. And Hermione wanted to fall. She wanted to fall and become lost forever in this moment. So long, she had told herself that she would never feel this way about someone else the way she had felt for Ron, but… but then why did she want to give not only her body but her _soul_ to him? It was too soon… too soon… to…

She decided that she didn't want to think about it anymore, and gave into her base, raw emotions. Nothing mattered but skin slapping against skin and Draco's mouth on her. She could feel herself closing in on the orgasm of a lifetime, and moaned timidly as she let her head fall onto his shoulder. Draco clutched her wrists tighter and whispered, "God, your pussy is so wet…"

It was all Hermione needed to be pushed over the edge. She came undone, moaning and quivering. Draco allowed her to ride it out, letting her set the pace until she was spent. He released her arms, and they slipped around him and gripped tight.

"Draco…" She whispered, and a tear fell down her cheek. She didn't let him see it.

"My turn?" He asked, teasing and playful. Hermione nodded against him, brushing away her tear quickly. She ushered herself off of his lap and let him slip down off the counter, his pants still clinging low around his pelvis. He tugged her to the edge and pulled her off of it before spinning her around quickly and pushing her to splay flesh against it with her stomach. He brushed the head of his cock teasingly against her and leaned over to kiss down her back. When he made it to the base of her spine, he straightened up and shoved himself into her without warning. Hermione gasped, her breasts slipping against the marble countertop. He pushed himself deep within her, so deep that she screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Draco set a firm hand on her back and slipped out of her before driving back in again. He groaned, and she sighed, and it was suddenly something so primal that Hermione didn't mind that her pelvic bones hit against the counter's edge. She just wanted him to move again.

Draco's throat purred in a satisfied moan as he began a new, quick rhythm that had their wine glasses at the other end of the counter shaking. He fisted a handful of her hair and forced her back to arch in a stunning display. Hermione steadied herself on her tiptoes to keep up with the frenzied thrusts and the way her breasts jiggled up and down. She could feel the moment when he tensed, spilling himself into her. His hand released her hair in that moment and both his arms reached around her, pulling her back to his chest as he kissed her anywhere he could. The warmth of his come inside of her made her pant hot and heavy.

It all felt so _right_. It had taken fifteen years for hatred to turn to indifference and indifference to friendship, and friendship finally to something more. Fifteen years of heavy glares and terrible nicknames and teasing and torment to build up to the hottest sex Hermione had ever had in her entire life. And not because it was with 'Malfoy', the 'Slytherin prince of Hogwarts', and not because it was with 'Draco Malfoy' the 'contemptible, misunderstood bad boy'; it was because it was with Draco, the misguided, hard headed, unsure of himself man who had never been given a chance to be himself until the damage had already been done. He was the boy who never had a choice. But now that he had it, had been given his second chance, he wanted to spend it with her. Making it all up to her. She could tell by his trail of kisses he was practically bleeding it out of his heart.

_And I'm not saying I wouldn't have picked you out of the bunch from the beginning, you know. Because I would have. If things had been different._

_Stay the night_ , his kisses were asking. _Don't go just yet._

"Draco…" She whispered, breathless. He stopped his advancement of kisses and rested his chin on her shoulder to listen. "How would you like to light that bear up like a bonfire now?"

He smirked against her skin. "Hermione, that's the second sexiest thing you've ever said to me."


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copied from fanfiction.net: Okay, before we begin, let me start off by saying THANK YOU to every single one of you. Knowing that you're there, reading on the other end, inspires me to give you a story worth reading. We're building up to the climactic parts, so get ready for some intense chapters as we start towards the end of How To Train Your Auror! Can't say exactly how many more chapters, because I don't want to limit myself, but just know this is where the ball begins to roll. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did.

**I am phenomenal**  
 **With every ounce of my blood**  
 **With every breath in my lungs**  
 **Won't stop until I'm** phe **-no-** menal  
 **I am phenomenal**  
 **However long that it takes**  
 **I'll go to whatever lengths**  
 **It's gonna make me a monster though**  
 **I am phenomenal**  
 **But I would never say, 'Oh, it's impossible'**  
 **Cause I'm born to be phenomenal**

**"Phenomenal" by Eminem**

* * *

"Harry, I need your permission to kiss you."

Harry Potter choked on his morning cuppa and spit it out all over his cinnamon raisin bagel. He peered up through his spectacles and wiped his chin. "Come again? Sorry Hermione, it sounded like you said you said you needed to kiss me."

"That's because I did," Hermione replied, nodding her head curtly.

Harry stood up from his desk and said in a hushed tone, "Look, Mione, you're great and all -really, you are – but I'm _married_. To your _other_ best friend. Or have you gotten one too many knocks to the head during your training?"

"I'm completely aware of that, Harry."

Red flushed over his cheeks. Hermione rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "It's purely for scientific reasons. I think Greg cursed me."

Harry's demeanor changed instantly. His back straightened and he set his chin strong and forward. "That's serious, Mione. Have you talked to the Minister about this? You could an investigation launched on him if he-"

"I don't know what he did yet," she told him, rubbing her wrists absent mindedly. Her heart slammed nervously in her chest; she knew he wasn't going to like what he heard next. "When I went to have my date with Draco on Saturday-" Harry cringed, eyes closing momentarily, but she continued, "It burned every time I tried to kiss him."

Harry's eyes pride back open. "It's Malfoy, Hermione. Are you sure it's not just your guilt manifesting?"

"Harry Potter." She glared at him, and he sighed.

"Fine. What do you mean it burned?"

"It felt as if my lips were on fire every single time our lips even came close to each other. Then they tingle every time I mention Greg's name." As if on cue, her lips sensationalized with a cooling prickle. "He tried to kiss me on our date, and I think he used some spell to make sure I can't kiss Draco. I need to compare kisses to see if it is simply Draco, or anyone else. It will determine how to approach him on the matter."

"You want to approach him? Look, I can get you a meeting with the Minister by noon. Don't handle this yourself."

"First, let's see what we're dealing with." She slipped her arms down to her sides and puckered out her lips. Harry glanced around the busy office and rubbed the back of his messy hair.

"Maybe we could… erm… do this somewhere… a bit more… private…"

Hermione's eyes widened. She had been so caught up in figuring out how the spell worked to actually take into account that they were standing in the Auror office, surrounded by witnesses. She laughed nervously and nodded. "Yes. That sounds like an idea."

Harry nodded and led her out of the office. He flexed his sweaty hands as he approached a nearby broom closet and twisted open the door handle. "I'm not going to get a chewing out from a certain blonde-haired prat, am I?"

"No. Draco knows."

"And what about Ginny?"

"Yes, she knows too."

Harry gulped and they both slid inside. Hermione cast a quick lumos spell with the tip of her wand and lit up the closet. There was just enough space for both of them to fit in, surrounded by cleaners, brooms, and some empty potion vials. The space between them was minimal, and Hermione swore she could hear Harry's heart beat wildly in his chest.

"Are you so detested by the idea of kissing me?"

"It's not that," Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and licked his lips nervously. "I'm just thinking what Ron would say if-" But he didn't get a chance to finish the sentence because Hermione hooked her fingers through his work tie and jerked him down to her level before she pushed her lips forcefully onto his. They were a bit wet, and softer than she thought they would be, but not a single bit of pain consumed her. Interesting. She held it just a moment longer (just to make sure) and released him. Harry stumbled backwards into the potion vials on a rickety shelf and knocked one to the floor. It cracked and bounced beneath their feet, but Hermione wasn't too worried about it. She couldn't help but attempt to stifle a laugh at her best friend; his glasses were askew (probably from falling backwards), his hair looked like it was standing on end, and his cheeks were a brilliant shade of scarlet.

"Are you alright?" She giggled.

"I… yeah, I'm fine…" He struggled to stand straight again and fixed his tie. "You're a better kisser than I thought you'd be."

"Thanks?"

They both laughed in the dimly lit closet, the awkwardness disintegrating before them. Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Well? What's the verdict?"

"It's what I feared. It's only when I kiss Draco."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means," Hermione chewed on her lower lip in thought, "That Greg Diggle knows about my relationship with Draco."

"That complicates things…"

"Understatement of a lifetime, Harry." She tapped her foot while she analyzed her results. "If he knows about that, what else does he know? Could he possibly suspect your investigation?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I doubt it. He probably just suspects you and Malfoy. You two aren't as subtle as you might think."

"Around you," Hermione chided, "But you might have a point. There's no reason to jump to conclusions until we can assess the situation entirely."

"And exactly what do you plan to do? Just walk right up to Diggle and demand he remove the spell?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Hermione, that's dangerous."

"Well, he won't try anything if we're in the Ministry, will he? I'll just tell him that it's when I kiss anyone."

"Hermione, I'm serious. Wait. -I'm still running the search on Cane's tattoo. If we can obtain an ID, we might be able to have clearer evidence to support our theories on Diggle's association with him."

Hermione didn't much like the idea of waiting, but nodded in agreement. "Fine. But I want you to know- I'm out. There's no more dating Greg Diggle. After what he's done to me, I want no part in this."

"Alright, Hermione." Harry agreed. "Alright. You've been a big help with this. I won't force you into anything anymore."

"Thank you." She reached up, relieved, and messed his hair up a bit. They scrambled out of the broom closet, fixed their robes, and smiled to one another. "You know, Harry, with a bit of work you could be just as good of a kisser as me."

"If I weren't married and you weren't you, I'd prove you wrong on that." He gave her a lopsided smile. "But as it were, I'll just let you know I wasn't giving it my all."

"I'm sure you weren't." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Harry."

"Sure. Any time?" He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "On second thought, no. Don't ask me that again. You're like my sister."

"I practically am." She waved as she started away down the hall. "I'll be seeing you, Harry!" As she rounded the corner, Hermione burst into full blown laughs. She couldn't help but wonder what Ron would have said. Or better yet, what the expression on his face would have been.

* * *

Class started punctually, as usual, and Greg Diggle set to work on the class brewing a complicated potion to counteract a variety of poisons. Dean was paired up with Hermione, since Draco was a week suspended, and he gave her a giant grin as she began to crack open her textbook.

"Hello." He chirped.

"Hello." Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're in an exceptionally cheerful mood this morning."

"I guess it's just nice pairing up with you. Not that I don't enjoy Malfoy, but I feel like we hardly get any real time to just chat, you know? He's always brooding or smarting off."

Her lips turned up in a reflective, sideways smile. "He is, isn't he?"

"So he's not here today. I take it he got suspended?"

"For an entire week."

"Blimey. Greg's already back in class."

"Well, Draco did throw the first punch."

"True, true." Dean cracked open his text book and began to read out loud. "There's a mess of ingredients here. I'll be right back." He stood up from his table and strolled over to the worker's table set up at the right side of the class to collect ingredients. Diggle spotted an opportunity and, much to Hermione's chagrin, advanced to her table.

"Hello, Miss Granger."

"Hello, Auror Diggle."

"Nice day we're having."

"Indeed." She stared hard at the book in front of her, avoiding his steady gaze. Diggle crouched down next to her and sat a hand next to hers, but never touching it.

"I'd like to speak with you on lunch."

"Sorry. Can't." She cut crisply with her words. "Dean and I are having lunch together."

"We are?" Dean asked, approaching the table. He set down three different vials, two batches of herbs, and a holly tree root.

"Yes." She jerked her head over to him and insisted with her eyes. "We are."

"Right…" He nodded slowly, catching her tone. "Sorry mate, we planned it out for a while. Just the two of us."

"Well, perhaps you could spare a moment before? I'd like to discuss something with you. Very urgent."

His fingers slid closer to hers, and she jerked her hands under the table. "Of course, Auror Diggle. But only for a moment before."

"Of course." He nodded and left her and Dean. Hermione sighed a breath of relief, and Dean muttered under his breath so no one would hear.

"What was that about?"

"Long story. Tell you later." She lied, knowing she wouldn't.

"Is it because of you and Malfoy?" Dean muttered, putting on a good show of pretending to set the ingredients up. Really he was just turning them this way and that. Hermione tried to control her widening eyes.

"Was it that obvious?"

"Not really," Dean replied quietly, now flipping through his book to random pages, "But I remember the look you used to give Ron our sixth year. It's the same one you use when you talk about Malfoy."

"Is it?" She cursed silently to herself.

"S'alright, you know." Dean smiled over to her and pretended to point at something in her book. "I think we were all wrong about him. Underneath all that arrogance, he's an alright bloke."

"Thanks, Dean."

"Yeah, Hermione. No problem. Just let Greg down easy, yeah?"

"Yeah…"

They spent the remainder of the morning actually focusing on the project at hand, which alleviated much of her stress. They were the second to finish, but the first to succeed. Simmons and his partner had made a yellow looking concoction that gave off a foul odor of rotten eggs. Dean and Hermione's was a brilliant shade of copper that smelled like cooked carrots.

When the lunch bell rang, Dean gathered up his things and said, "You really want to have lunch together?"

"No," she replied quietly, "I'm going to go visit Draco, if that's alright. But should Greg ask…"

"Yeah, no problem." He smiled and said loudly, "Right. See you in a few." He gave her a wink and set off with his book bag strapped over his shoulder. When the entire class had filtered out, Hermione sat quietly and waited as Diggle scribbled something on a parchment with a plumed feather quill.

"Anything on your mind, Hermione?" He asked. She furrowed her eyebrows together.

"You asked me here, sir. Not the other way around."

"So I'm sir now?" He sat down his quill and raised his face to look at her. "Was our date really that bad? One moment we were having fun, and the next thing I know, you want to go home. What exactly did I do wrong?"

"You and I both know the answer to that."

"We do?"

Hermione knew she had promised Harry to wait. She knew it, deep down inside. So she bit down her tongue and simply glared.

"Tell me, Hermione. Answer my question."

The tingle that had played on her lips all weekend returned, but this time her mouth opened and words shot out against her will. "I know that you cursed me." Her hands flew up to her mouth and her eyes nearly burst out of her skull. Diggle sat back in his chair, smirking.

"Uncover your mouth, Miss Granger. Continue. Please."

Her hands felt like weights as they fell to her lap, and her mouth started up again. "You used Gray Magic on me and spelled me to want to kiss you." Fear gripped her heart. Why was she saying this? What could possibly possess her to do the things that Diggle willed her to without an Imperius curse?

"Anything else?"

She bit down hard on her tongue, but it didn't stop her from speaking. All it did was swell it up. "You prevented me from kissing Draco."

"And there it is." Diggle rose from his chair, and Hermione made to stand too until he said, "Stay seated." Her legs fell down into the chair. "Tell me, Hermione, did you really think I wouldn't catch on? Did you think you were fooling anyone by batting your pretty little eyelashes?" He stalked around his desk and sat down on top of Hermione's, framing her body with each of his legs at her shoulders. With a flick of his finger, he locked the door. _Oh God,_ Hermione thought silently. "I didn't become second in command of the Auror division for batting _my_ pretty little eyelashes. -Oh, but don't get me wrong. I still very much like you. It takes guts to try to pull one over on me. _Matzi_. And you've got an awful lot of that." He leaned forward and touched the tip of his nose to hers. Hermione pulled back, straining her neck to avoid his touch.

"So you've known…" She whispered, trying to reach for her wand in her book bag subtly. Her arms still weighed heavily against her, and it was difficult to find the will to move them freely. "How long?"

"For a while now." His green eyes glistened under the fluorescent lights of the room. "It still baffles me how you can pass up affections for me, but you can find them for an insufferable twit such as Draco."

"You're wrong about him." She struggled to pull her hand lower than her knee, but it was as if the gravity her arms felt was holding it against her. As if sensing this, Diggle smirked and reached down to her book bag, bringing it into his lap.

"Oh, your wand? You won't be needing that." He plucked it from the first pocket and held it out in front of her eyes. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'll let you have it. On one condition. You aren't to use it on me, or to contact any of your friends to help you escape. Is that clear?"

Hermione was going to lie, but there was a heavy feeling in her chest, and an idea forced itself into her head and _stayed_ there. She would _not_ harm Greg Diggle, _or_ try to use her magic to wave down her friends. Whatever this magic was, it was strong, and it meant business. She nodded and Greg allowed her to slip her fingers around her wand and set it in her lap.

* * *

A knock came to the Malfoy Manor door. Draco, who had taken to reading a book in one of the lounges in the den, perked his head up and set his book down. "She's late…" He grumbled. "Why on Earth didn't she just use the floo?"

He gave a long stretch as he stood and walked lazily to the front door. When he jerked it open, what he saw was not at all what he expected. "Can I help you gentlemen?" He sneered.

* * *

"You are vile," she told him.

Diggle arched an eyebrow. "Am I? I'm not the one who stole files from somebody's desk while they weren't looking. I'd like those back, if it's all the same to you."

"I don't have them," she answered honestly.

"No. I don't suppose you do. But your little boyfriend…" Diggle glanced up towards the door, where full blown shouting could be heard. "Oh dear. Right on schedule. Shall we go see, Hermione?" He slipped off of the desk. "Come, Hermione. Not a word now." Hermione was forced out of her chair by the magic in her blood and followed Diggle to the door. He unlocked it and ushered her out into the hallway. A ways down were two muscular Aurors dragging someone in by the arms.

"Get your hands off of me!" The person shouted. "I swear to fucking MERLIN HIMSELF I'LL HAVE THE LOT OF YOU THROWN IN AZKABAN!"

A tuft of white blonde hair peeked out from between the two gentlemen, and Hermione's heart sank deep down into her stomach. She wanted to scream out for them to stop, but her mouth stayed perfectly closed as commanded.

One of the Aurors noticed Diggle and shouted down the hall to him, "You were right, Diggle! Had the files sitting on his counter, the stupid sod!"

"Just as I feared," Diggle smirked, resting a hand on the back of Hermione's spine. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Miss Granger, but your partner is a thief."

"Fuck!" Draco flung wildly, but as they came bounding down the hall, Hermione could see cuffs bound to his hands, no doubt the kind that diffused magic. When he caught sight of Hermione, his face scrunched up in frustration and concern. "Hermione! Hermione, what the bloody Hell is going on?"

'Stop!' She tried to shout, but no words came. Diggle grinned as one of the Aurors stunned Draco, causing him to fall slack against them. His head hung low, but he hadn't been knocked completely out. Not just yet. He stared up at Diggle through hooded slits.

"Take him to holding cell three. I'll deal with him momentarily." He turned to Hermione, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. The way he stood blocked off the two Aurors and Draco, so that they were forced to watch as he scooped her up into a vicious hug. "I know that this is a lot to handle, Miss Granger. So if you need to cry, I'm here for you."

Hermione, without prompting, let a tear fall down her cheek. She didn't fear for herself as much as she did for Draco, and that frightened her. She slid her eyes over to Draco's, pleading with him. 'I can't help it. I didn't turn you in.'

Draco stared back at her, eyes enraged, though at Diggle or Hermione she couldn't tell for sure. She knew the words wouldn't come, so she settled on waving her fingers down at her sides. Draco glanced down at them, then back up to her. As Diggle pulled away from the hug, he wiped a tear away and moved so that the Aurors could pass.

"Miss Granger," He said to Hermione, "I know how traumatizing this all must be. Take the rest of the day off. Go home. Wait for me. I'll brief you soon." He leaned over and whispered in her ear as Draco was dragged away and out of view, "And not a word of our conversation to anyone, do you hear?"

She gulped, nodding.

"Say ' _Yes, sir_.'"

"Yes, sir." She cringed.

"Oh, and do stop crying. It really looks quite wrong on you."

Her tears dried up instantly, but she wished for the life of her they'd return. She wanted to grieve. She wanted to scream.

"Don't worry about your boyfriend, Miss Granger," Diggle said as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'll take good care of him." He smirked, planted a kiss on her forehead, and strolled off down the hall with his hands in his pockets. As he neared the corner, he turned back and grinned for only a moment, and Hermione swore his eyes gleamed a boding shade of black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one of my favorite chapters. XD XD XD


	26. Gut Instinct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPECIAL SHOUTS TO MISS PANCAKE because she edits my stories and really- that's one of the coolest, most important jobs. And she keeps me on my toes! My mistakes used to be 50-60 a chapter, they've gone down drastically to 30-40. Usually it is punctuation. So thank you, Miss Pancake, for keeping me -punctual- hahaha I got jokes.

**Wolves and werewolves, baby**   
**scratching at your door**   
**Said there's wolves and werewolves, baby**   
**scratching at your door**   
**I think I fed them earlier,**   
**I don't know what they're here for**

**The horses, they've got their fright on**   
**it don't matter what you do**   
**The horses, they've got their fright on**   
**it don't matter what you do**   
**They're gonna trample all the chickens**   
**and come on in after you**   
**  
~"Wolves and Warewolves" by The Pack A.D. (And yes, they totally spell it Warewolves on the album)**

* * *

Being locked away in a prison cell was nothing new to Draco Malfoy. After the War, his entire family had sat for two weeks in holding while awaiting trial. He had never been able to alleviate the sudden smell of piss and shame every time he thought about his seventeen year old self sitting lonely in his lone cell waiting for the Dementors to come and take him. They hadn't, obviously, but being back here, sitting in a dreary cell that so resembled his old one made his bones shiver down to the marrow.

In the back of his mind, Draco saw Hermione's eyes. Her big, brown, wet eyes that had looked practically as horrified as he felt when she watched him being dragged into custody. Beside her in his mind's eye, he could see Diggle's smug expression. He had thought, for a split moment, that Hermione had played him the entire time, but that had faded the moment he had watched Diggle hold Hermione in his arms. That wave of her fingers… what did it mean? What was Diggle holding over her head to make her so silent?

He glanced up at the stone walls, folding his hands between his knees to keep them from shaking. He couldn't think of a single way to get out of the situation he was in. He knew his fingerprints were going to be all over the evidence, and with a quick spell anyone would have all the evidence needed to get him tossed out of the Auror division all together. Damn it! He had gotten so caught up in his feelings for Granger that he had broken his cardinal Malfoy rule: Don't get caught. If his father could see him now…

His head perked up. His Father. Lucius Malfoy wasn't an affectionate man, but he'd be loyal enough to get Draco out of this jam. Even with his Death Eater status, he had enough ties at the Ministry. It would be a matter of getting a letter sent out. Surely he was allotted that, right?

There was a clanking sound from down the hall, and the sound of keys jingling before footsteps approached his cell. Much to Draco's anger and chagrin, Auror Gregory Diggle smiled triumphantly at him from the other side of the metal bars. "Such a tangled web we weave, eh Malfoy?"

" _Sir_." Draco growled, sticking his nose up in the air and turning his face away from Diggle. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of losing restraint; he was going to show Diggle that even if he was in chains, he wasn't going to be controlled. He heard a smug chuckle.

"A Malfoy till the bitter end."

"What would you know of my family?"

"Enough." Diggle scraped the cell keys along the bars, the metal clinking in different tones as the keys strummed. "How does it feel to be bested?"

"I don't know. I'll be sure to ask you that when this is all through."

"Bold words coming from someone in cuffs. But you should be used to those by now."

"What do you want, Diggle?" Draco sneered. "Besides to flaunt your pompous, fat head around like a show trophy."

"I just came to tell you that Hermione sends her regards… She'd tell you herself, but she's a bit preoccupied at the moment."

That caught Draco's attention. So much so that he lost his cool head and jerked his head destructively in Diggle's direction. He made to stand, but the chains around his ankles were secured to a metal loop through the floor under his chair, making it difficult. He settled for jerking against his restraints and glaring. "If you've touched a single hair on her head…"

"I'd never do anything to endanger her," Diggle replied, observing possible specks of dirt under his nails. "She means a great deal to me. You too, from what I gather."

"When I get out of here, mark my words. They're going to need to send me Azkaban after, because I'm going to kill you."

"Love to see you try."

"I bet you feel just extra peachy-keen out there, don't you? The only reason you have me locked up is because you know I'm too much of a threat to you on the outside."

"Quite the contrary," Diggle smirked, eyes trailing over in Draco's direction. "I want you to witness what comes next." He smiled such a predatory smile that Draco's stomach filled with fear and he nearly threw up. He pushed the vomit back down his throat and began to breathe heavily.

"What the Hell does that mean?"

"I thought you'd have figured it out by now. Oh well." Diggle slung the keys over his shoulder, his finger caught in the loop to hold them there. "This really was ahead of schedule, but when Miss Granger mentioned the Gray Magic, I knew it was too risky to let you two flail around wildly in the dark. What if you stumbled onto something?"

At the mention of Gray Magic, Draco's ears prickled. He debated on what to say, and took a chance. "So, it's true then. You work for Cane."

Diggle didn't seem at all bothered by the accusation. He simply shrugged. "I wouldn't say 'work for' per say… But neither did you, did you? You were his partner, weren't you? And yet you still betrayed him. Such a black sheep."

"Come in here and I'll show you black sheep. I'll give you two black eyes, you sodding bell end!"

"Language," Diggle tisked. "Cane trusted you. He had such faith in you… but you always fell short. Such potential. -No matter. I want you to know something." He leaned close and put a hand on each bar next to his face. "Listen, now, because this is very important. Are you listening?" He smirked. "I'm going to tear down everything you love, Draco Malfoy. I'm going to strip away any bit of happiness that you have left in your pathetic life. And when I'm done, I'm going to take Hermione away from you too. I'm going to make her forget that a sod like you ever existed in her life. It's for the best you know."

Draco growled, jerking his arms against the chains that connected his hands to his legs. They rattled, but he was thoroughly at the chain's mercy.

"But she's going to watch what happens, first. She's going to watch the havoc that is inflicted, all because you decided to keep your secrets to yourself."

"What does that even _mean_? What are you and Cane planning?"

"Details? Oh no. No details for you, I'm afraid. You'll see soon enough. I'm not that cartoon villain who loves to reveal all of his secrets. Unless you'd like to share what's in that sawdust filled head of yours?"

Draco glared, but said nothing.

"Pity." Diggle began to walk away, but Draco panicked and shouted, "Wait!" He came back, green eyes filled with satisfaction. "Yes, Draco?"

Draco hadn't anticipated what his next words would be. Fear gripped his chest and clung tight. He settled on attempting a smug smirk and said, "Don't I get a letter? It's my right, I get one letter."

"Yeah? Tell it to your warden. I'm not on duty for another thirty." And with that, Gregory Diggle stalked slowly out of the hallway, leaving Draco Malfoy alone in the darkness.

* * *

Hermione's mind swam through spell after spell as she stepped into the floo and headed to her house. She couldn't come up with one that would remove a type of Imperius curse, but there wasn't any, and even if there were, there would be no guarantee that it would work against this Gray Magic. With a shower of green flames, she arrived in the comfort of her own home. She leaped out and took off towards her parchment drawer. "Have to get this to someone," she muttered, pulling out a pencil and sitting down at her desk. But as her hands came down to write, it hovered over the paper but wouldn't make contact. She sighed, and told herself she'd write a grocery list to test a theory. The hand fell slack, and she was allowed to write 'milk, eggs, shite on Greg Diggle's head.' She smiled, half triumphant, and crumpled up the paper.

The door to the bedroom swung open, and the annoyed voice of Astoria Greengrass piped up. "Miss Granger? Is that you? Everything alright?"

"I'm in the kitchen!" Hermione shouted, wanting to add 'everything is certainly not alright', but the spell did its job. Astoria found her and raised her smooth eyebrows up in surprise.

"What are you doing home so soon?"

Hermione really wished that Diggle hadn't commanded her not to cry, because if any time was the moment to break down, it was right now. Instead, she sat her pencil down on top of the table and set her face in her hands. "D-Draco…" She forced the word out of her mouth.

"Draco?" Astoria's eyebrows furrowed together. "What has that man done now?"

"Nothing!" Hermione screeched, a Hell of a whole lot louder than she intended. "I-I mean… Draco's… b-b-b…" She fought against the spell, telling herself it was simple information on Draco. That didn't mean she had to mention Greg. As her mind sifted through the loophole, her mouth came to her own control again and she sighed. "Draco's been arrested."

"For _what_?"

"Stealing."

"Stealing? That doesn't sound like Draco!"

"It's worse than that." She knew she had said too much, because her mouth clamped shut.

"Did he murder someone?"

She shook her head.

"Then what?"

"Can't say."

"Can't or won't."

" _Can't._ "

Astoria blinked a few times. For as vain and shallow as she appeared to be, Hermione had to give her credit, because she pieced together Hermione's situation quickly. "Someone's controlling you."

She wasn't allowed to nod, but she blinked once. She desperately hoped Astoria would understand. She did.

"Is it Cane?"

Two blinks.

"Well, that doesn't help me figure this out, Hermione."

"You said my name." Hermione's mouth fell open, shocked.

"And apparently, the spell preventing you from speaking has only one purpose; to keep you from talking about who's done wrong to Draco. Am I right?"

One blink.

Hermione thought about Diggle's exact words. "Astoria… would you call us friends?"

"Friends?" Astoria stared at her, baffled. "Well, not really…"

"Oh, thank God!" Hermione felt the spell release from her. "Astoria, you're absolutely brilliant!" She leapt across the table and threw her arms around the Greengrass woman.

"Yes, well… I know."

"Greg told me I couldn't talk to my friends about what had happened, but if we're not friends, the magic doesn't really work, see?" She jumped up from her chair. "Greg figured out that Draco and I stole files out of his desk, and he means to have Draco imprisoned and-"

"Hold on. Slow down." Astoria threw up a finger. "You two stole files out of your Superior Officer's desk?"

"My late husband's files, to be precise-"

Astoria threw her hand further into the air. "Wait a moment! What do you mean 'late husband'? Did I miss a memo?"

"Astoria, I don't have time for this!" Hermione threw the pencil and parchment across the table. "I need you to write what I'm about to say all down, alright? Just do it!"

"Alright! Alllllll-right." Astoria grabbed up the pencil and began to jot down bullet points. "Continue."

"He used Gray Magic to use an Imperius like curse on me. He can control me physically, but not mentally. Are you writing this down? Every word?"

"I'm not known for quick writing, Miss Granger. You'll have to give me a moment." Her fingers curved around the pencil as she skillfully wrote.

"Must you be showy with your letters?"

"If I'm not, no one will believe I've written it." She finished dotting her punctuation. "Alright. -Wait, this is Greg? As in, Greg Diggle? That man you went on that date with Saturday night?"

"Yes! Write it down!"

"Look, Miss Bossy-Pants, I'm beginning to understand why we're not friends in the first place." As Astoria wrote, Hermione could see why Draco had loved the woman. She was irritating, yes, but she was sharp and could quip with the best of them.

"He told me to come here and wait for him. I'm not sure what he plans next, but he practically admitted that he's known about Draco and I for some time. If that's true, he means Draco quite a bit of harm."

Astoria's eyes popped, and she scribbled the last bit down without her flourished letters. As soon as she was done, she jerked her head up to meet Hermione's. "Draco's in serious trouble, then."

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "Oh my goodness! Astoria! Can you close down the floo? Maybe we can-"

But there was a furious eruption of green flames from the fireplace, and then Greg Diggle stepped into the living room. "Oh, Miss Granger? Are you here?"

"Quick!" Hermione whispered, nudging down to the note. Astoria waved her hand, and the letter disappeared. Diggle followed the sound of Hermione's voice into the kitchens, and when his eyes set on Astoria, Hermione realised she had made a terrible mistake in underestimating his arrival time. She thought she would have time to hide Astoria, but now… now it was too late. She screamed at herself on the inside.

"Oh? Guests?" Diggle smirked, crossing his arms. "I really don't have a lot of time, Hermione. Tight schedule, you see." He stepped through the kitchen threshold and grinned Astoria's way. "Ah. I recognize you. Astoria Malfoy."

Astoria kept her calm demeanor as she sneered, "It's Greengrass, actually."

"Oh, yes. Of course. Divorcee." Diggle glanced up at the clock on Hermione's wall. "Oh dear me. Is that the time? I really should be getting back to work. Hermione, be a dear and go grab the baby."

"What? I'll be damned if you-" Astoria shot up out of her chair, but Diggle flexed his fingers, and a whip of black smoke jutted from them and hit Astoria clean in the face. She fainted instantly. The smoke fell to the floor, a pile of white powder.

"Such a shame. I have such a bad back on rainy days." He glanced up to Hermione. "The baby."

Hermione jerked as she fought with her body, but it only obeyed Diggle, forcing her shoes to follow her feet to the bedroom; Scorpius lay sleeping in his crib in a dragon onesie with footies. Hermione's heart sank as she scooped him up into her arms, taking a moment to grab his blanket too. Scorpius started awake in a burst of cries, and Hermione felt horrified tears ran down her cheeks as she said to him, "Sshh, Scorpius. It's alright. It's just me, now. Quiet, love… shhh…" Scorpius's cries diminished as he recognized her soothing voice, and he snuggled onto her shoulder. "I won't let him hurt you, Scorpius. I solemnly swear." She snuggled the baby tight against her, gathering up the diaper bag and the bottle of still warm formula from his crib. She swallowed hard and came back out into the living room to find Diggle standing there with Astoria slung over his shoulder.

"Oh good. He's cuter than what I imagined."

"He looks just like his father," Hermione sneered, earning a contemptible glare from Greg. "If you so much as look at him-"

"Hermione, do shut up."

Her lips sealed together.

"Thank you. Now, if you'll kindly grab my arm, we'll be apparating."

Her arm reached out and touched his. In a quick POP, she was slung into a tightness of swirling vortex and gut wrenching dizziness. When they landed, it was in front of an older, quaint looking home in between two ginormous Oak trees. Scorpius shrieked out of fear from the apparation, but Hermione managed to calm him down by patting him on the back and kissing his ear. Diggle led the way, Hermione on his heels as he told her to follow, until they were inside the white French doors that led to the entryway. The wallpaper (a hideous display of seventies flowers) was faded and peeling, and the furniture looked as if it hadn't been sat in in many years. Thick layers of dust covered everything from the banister that led upstairs to the old lamps that sat as timeless pieces on rickety wooden coffee tables.

"You may speak now," Diggle told her, and Hermione felt the release of the spell, breathing in through her mouth and tasting the musty air.

"You don't honestly think you're going to get away with this, do you? I will find a way out of this, I swear it on my life, and when I do I'll tear apart the world to take you down." She followed him as he led her down a short hallway to a black painted door. Diggle shrugged and said, "Be a dear and open the door." Hermione reluctantly reached out with her free hand and turned the knob. Diggle pushed it open with his knee and introduced her to a vast, expansive library that could have made Belle from Beauty and the Beast envious. This room looked brand new, though she knew that were impossible, because the books kept here were very, very old. This must be the only room used in the house, she thought to herself. She forgot momentarily of the danger she was in and reached out to touch a row of books. The ceiling was arched at the top and hovered a good sixty feet - an expansion spell, she noted, because the roof of the house had only been two stories tall.

"Is this where you and Cane do all of your evil plotting?" She taunted. Diggle tossed Astoria onto a nearby couch. This one was plush, green, and very new. "If you think people won't notice that I'm gone, you're wrong. Harry will find me. He'll get this whole mess sorted out with Draco, you'll see-"

"Enough." Diggle raised his hand and silenced her. "For the brightest witch in our lifetime, you sure do yammer on a lot, you know that?" He offered his hands out. "Shall I take the baby?"

"You'll have to pry him from my cold, dead hands." She glared.

"Tempting," he smirked. "But I think I rather like you alive, so I suppose the baby stays with you." He snapped his fingers, and Astoria's eyes shot open as she struggled for breath. She bounded off of the couch, coughing, before looking up from the floor at Diggle and Hermione. When her eyes found Scorpius, she growled.

"That's. My. Baby." She seethed. "Hermione. Give. Me. My. Child."

Hermione glanced to Greg to see if he would order against it, but when he didn't she dashed across the room and set Scorpius in Astoria's arms. Astoria cradled him tightly, checking him over. When she was convinced he was alright, she glared heatedly back up at Diggle and flipped him the bird.

"Classy," he rolled his eyes. "Well, ladies. As much fun as this has been, I really must be off. Big plans! Big plans…" He strolled up to Hermione and cupped her cheek. "Don't leave. Don't contact anyone. You are to wait until I return. If Astoria attempts to leave - kill her." He gave her a wink. "Give us a kiss?"

"If you're not going to force me, I'd rather see you rot in Hell."

"Another time." He pulled his hand away. "I'll never force you into anything, Hermione. At least, not romantically. You'll come around, sooner or later. It's just a matter of time. I'll be sure to tell your boyfriend 'Hello' - if he survives long enough."

* * *

Dean shifted nervously in his chair, waiting for the class bell to ring. He had met a cute muggle girl at the new coffee shop he visited on lunch, and he was practically bouncing in his chair to tell someone. He glanced around the room anxiously for Hermione so he could dish out the details, but as the bell rang and Greg stepped in the door, his chest tightened. Hermione was never late for a class.

Greg waved his hand to Dean and stepped in front of the class. "Right. Should we test out those potions?"

"Sir." Dean raised his hand. He knew the drill: even though Greg and him were mates, he still had to be cordial in class. When Greg glanced over and nodded, Dean spoke again. "Where's Hermione?"

"Ill, I'm afraid." Greg shrugged. "It seems our own Auror Malfoy was caught stealing. Poor girl witnessed them bringing him in. Got her shaken up." He looked around to the class. "I guess that's what we get for allowing a Death Eater into the Ministry." Half of the room lit up in sniggers. Dean did not. He didn't particularly think Draco Malfoy had the purest of hearts, but he had seen him in action. He'd give his life for any one of the men in this classroom, which was more than the other sods could say for themselves. He still remembered the way Malfoy had ran at the burning Leaky in an attempt to save Roman's life. Malfoy stealing? There'd have to be a reason, he thought miserably.

But it still wasn't like Hermione, even with all of the stress, to miss a class. He'd seen her push through worse events and still rank highest in marks.

"Sir?" He raised his hand again.

"Yes, Auror Thomas?"

"I'd like to be excused from class, please."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "We're in the middle of a lesson."

"Yes, I know that. But just this once? Hermione's my friend, sir. If she's hurting, I'd like to be there for her."

"No." Greg Diggle shook his head, giving Dean a stern smile. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait." He lowered his voice. "If you'd like, the both of us can visit her after class together, but now isn't the time." He smiled back up to the classroom and began again, "As I was saying, perhaps if we started on a simple poison to test… one that takes a while for the bloodstream to…" His words faded out of Dean's ears as his gut told him something was terribly, terribly wrong. And Dean's hunches were few, but when they were there they were always right. He gathered up his books into his book bag and stood up from his chair. Greg cut himself off mid-sentence and craned his head towards Dean. "Auror Thomas. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to see my friend, sir."

"I haven't excused you from class."

"I'm aware of that, sir."

Greg's eyes narrowed, and he shrugged. "Very well. But if you leave, know that you're breaking a direct command from your Superior Officer. I'll have to take your name off of the list of applicants for this year."

Dean's stomach dropped, but his resolve was not shaken. "You do what you have to, yeah?" He pushed in his chair and turned to leave.

"Dean." Greg almost sounded pleading. "Do you know what you're giving up?"

"I've waited two years. What's another?" He shrugged up his strap of the book bag and made his way to the back of the class, eyes hard pressed on him. When he made it to the door, he took in a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped into the hallway. Two different paths were presented before him just like the two sides of the hallway. On the one hand, he could leave and check up on Hermione immediately - no doubt she was hurting pretty bad if Malfoy was incarcerated. But then there was the other path, the one that spoke from that 'always right' gut of his, that said he needed to pay Draco Malfoy a visit.

Sighing again, he nodded firmly to himself and took the left path towards the elevators that would take him all the way down to the holding cells. Whatever Malfoy had done he'd need to hear it straight from the Thestral's mouth.

* * *

Draco stared up at the stone ceiling, straining for any bit of light that would peer through the cracks. It was daylight outside, he knew, but that didn't stop the hours from feeling like an unending complexity of twilight. He slammed his fists down on the edge of his chair and tried to summon up any bit of magic in his system, but the cuffs prevented him from doing so.

He feared for Hermione above all else. When he got out of this prison Hell hole - yes, when and not if, he was going to make sure to knock out every single one of Greg Diggle's perfectly straight teeth.

Someone's voice carried from the far end of the hall.

"I just want to visit with him. I'm an Auror in training… No, I don't have a badge yet, but what does that bloody matter? Statute Six, paragraph eighty three says any imprisoned witch or wizard awaiting trial is afforded one visit by family and one by legal- counsel. And I'm his third cousin twice removed, so if you'll excuse me…"

A few hard stomps later, Dean Thomas's face came into view, his face lit up by the tip of his wand. He gave Draco a hearty wave and smirked. "Someone's been a naughty boy."

"Third cousin?" Draco smirked back.

"Twice removed." Dean nodded.

"You've got cleverness, I'll give you that." He rubbed his chin. "What do you want, Thomas?"

"I heard they locked you down here for theft. I was going to comfort Hermione first, but I thought I might get your side of things before-" Dean cut himself off as Draco jerked up on the chains and tried to stand. "Everything alright?"

"No." Draco whispered. "Things are most certainly _not_ alright. Hermione's in trouble. You should have gone to find her first, you stupid sod!"

"Hey, no need to get nasty." Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean Hermione's in trouble?"

Draco opened his mouth to answer, but there was a deafening _boom_ from somewhere up above his head. The hanging lights of the hallway swayed angrily as the foundation above Draco's head shook. Tiny pebbles broke off from the top and crumbled down around him. A furious shriek that sounded like metal grinding against fire and more metal screamed from the Ministry above them. Draco threw his hands up as best he could to shield himself, and Thomas cast a quick _protego_ spell as part of the ceiling came crashing down around Draco Malfoy's head. The spell rebounded the debris, and Draco was left shaken and huffing frightened breaths as he stood in a perfect circle of rubble. He glanced over to Dean and gave a nod. "Thanks."

"What the bloody Hell do you think that was?" asked Dean. "I'm going to go check with the guard."

"Thomas!"

"Be right back."

"Don't leave me!"

But it was too late - Dean's footsteps echoed down the hall. He stopped short, though, and he whistled. "Blimey!"

"What!?" Draco shouted, pulling against the cuffs. "What is it?"

"The entire hall's crumbled in! We're stuck down here!"

"Fuck!" Draco kicked out at nothing and fell back in his chair. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Dean jogged back to him. "Fuck." He agreed. "Why do I get this sinking feeling that this is connected to Hermione."

"Because it is." Draco pushed his arms out to Dean. "Look. I'll explain it all later, alright? Just… get me out of these."

"Hey now. It's one thing to come in here and check in on you. It's an entirely other thing to break you out."

"You think you're ready for whatever the Hell is up there on your own?" Draco pointed to the crumbled ceiling, where an ominous black hole lurked. He watched Dean calculate all of the variables, much like Hermione would have.

"You've got a point." He brandished his wand forward. "Alright, Malfoy. This might sting a bit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like? Please don't forget to review! If you have a moment.
> 
> A.


	27. The Floodgate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can we all just say TEAM DEAN!?

**I feel like I'm gonna explode**   
**Any moment**   
**I'm ready to blow**   
**I can't stand it**   
**I get so worried**   
**I get so low**   
**But if I'm never your hero**   
**I can never let you down**   
**And the sirens go**   
**Oh ah oh ah**

**Clap if you've got a ticket to the end of the world**

**"Explode" by Patrick Stump**

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Dean mumbled miserably as he and Draco levitated rock by crumbled rock to a pile at the other end of the hallway. "You worked for some evil bellend genius named Bastian Cane. Cane convinces you to do his dirty work in exchange for a way to remove your mark. Cane steals up all these wanted criminals and forces you to experiment on them. And you're all fine and well and good with it until your wife became pregnant? And that's when you turn this grand leaf on life and decide that you'll become an Auror to take down Cane. Then you and Hermione get this big ol' idea in your head that you'll solve Ron's 'murder' as well? So you steal files out of Diggle's desk. Did I get all that?"

"You left out the part where I lied to my wife, confessed to her, she divorced me, and I fell unexplainably for Hermione. But yeah. That pretty much sums it up."

"And you're saying that Greg has a part in all this? As Cane's right hand man?"

"He knew I took those files. It was all too easy to get into his desk while he wasn't around."

"So when they arrested you, you really were a thief."

"Don't dwell on the details, Dean." Draco rolled his eyes, moving a pretty nasty looking boulder off to the side.

Dean smiled. "You called me Dean."

"Yeah. So?"

"You always call me by my surname. Just feels… I don't know. Like we're chums or something."

"You did break me out of my holding cell. I'd say that qualifies us as chums, yes."

"Chums with a Malfoy…" Dean shook his head. "This day just keeps getting more and more interesting."

* * *

Harry's head ached with a sharp twinge. Dust flew all around his head as he strained to open his eyes. When they opened, they stung, and he realized after a moment that blood was gushing from his forehead and into the grooves where his eyes sat in his skull. He sat up, brushing the blood away, and felt around for his wand. He found it in his pants pocket, removed it, and gripped it tight. " _Accio_ glasses!" His glasses flew in shards and bent frames over to his lap. " _Oculus Reparo_." _Gonna have to thank Hermione again for teaching me that one._ He set his fixed glasses back on his nose and took in the sight of the Ministry Auror Office. Half of it was sunk in on one side towards the exit, and the other half was littered with blood and broken debris. Two of his best Aurors, Tyler Thompson and Alison Redsheen, lay lifeless only ten feet away. Harry cursed under his breath, wincing as he tried to move. His leg was severely injured, if not broken. He reached down into his pants pocket again, bringing out his cell phone. Ginny's number was first on speed dial.

"Harry." She answered almost immediately. "Dragon's breath, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Gin."

"It's all over the news. The entire Ministries been attacked!"

"Yeah. I'm aware," He popped off. "Thanks for pointing it out to me. Would have never occurred - hold on a moment. How do you know about it?" He tried to move his left leg and screamed into the receiver as bone poked out of his pant leg. "Fuck…"

"Harry. It's all over the news. I told you."

"There's no way that the press has gotten this to the papers already."

"Not the wizard news. The _muggle_ news. It's on the telly."

Harry's glasses fell down his nose as his eyes grew wide. "The Ministry is on the television?"

"Not just the Ministry, Harry. Diagon. Hogwarts. It's everywhere. All of the wards are down."

"Gin. Call Hermione. See if you can find out anything from her end. Call me back when you reach her."

"Right. Harry, be careful. I love you."

"Love you too." Harry hung up and stowed his phone back in his pocket. He went for his wand again and pointed it at his leg. " _Ferula_." Bandages sprung up and wrapped around his leg, acting as a splint. "That'll have to do, for now." He grabbed his desk (which had been tossed on its side) and pulled himself upright to stand. Specks of dust flickered in the air. Harry tried to ascertain where the damage had stemmed from, but he guessed it wasn't from this room. This had only been a repercussion of something far worse.

His cell phone rang again, and he struggled to fish it out a second time. It wasn't Ginny calling, but his liaison from the muggle police department in one of the London precincts. "Hello? Officer Tuller?"

"Harry. I ran that cross reference for a match in our database. That tattoo - we got a match."

"You did?" Harry sighed. "Great. That's great! Who is it?"

"I- got- ah- break- up- lo -you there?"

"Wait. Let me see if I can find a better spot." Harry pressed the speaker button and waved his hand around. "Can you hear me?"

"Barely!" Officer Tuller called out on the other end. "Look, I didn't get a name, but I got a description for you. Light *static* hair. Tall. Handsome. *static* eyes. The tattoo artist remembered that he tipped pretty well. Get all that, Potter?"

"No, Tuller. Repeat it again-"

The cell phone light faded away, and the phone died. Harry tossed his head back and growled. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat and coughed as he choked down some dust. He doubled over, and that's when he was sure, as pain surged in his side, that he had broken a rib in the midst of the explosion as well. He winced, clutching his ribs, just as someone came into view, stepping over a pile of rubble. The man had hair as silver as pewter with the same colored scruff around his chin. He wore a black cape that draped just at the top of his ankles, knee high leather boots, and eyes as dark as night. Harry recognized him right away from Malfoy's memories.

"Cane." He gritted his teeth and pointed his wand. " _Stupefy_!" Blue light shot out of Harry's wand, but rebounded to a nearby wall as Cane waved his hand. Harry cursed silently. " _Expelliarmus! Locomotor Mortis! Relashio! Sectumsempra_!" Each and every spell bounced off of Cane's hand, hitting nearby desks or already dead bodies. With each spell, Cane took a step closer, until he was face to face with Harry Potter. Harry huffed out tired breaths, baffled.

"Those were all good tries." Cane leaned one knee up on top of a fallen bit of ceiling. "Hello, Harry Potter. I've got big plans for you."

* * *

Hermione paced the enormous study, taking in to account every book, every piece of parchment, every scrape or imperfection in the bookshelf to put together a story in her head of where exactly she was, and how exactly she could remove this spell. Every once in awhile, she would glance back at Astoria, who was attempting to feed Scorpius a bottle. Scorpius wasn't having it, too entranced by all of the colors of the books on the shelves to care much for his lunch. Hermione's stomach growled. Lunch. Yes, she had forgotten about that. She'd need her strength if she were going to fight off Diggle.

"What are you looking for, exactly?" Astoria asked, glancing around the room.

"A way to escape."

"Diggle told you to stay put. Doesn't that mean that you have to."

"For now." Hermione stopped at a long, oak desk with a cherry finish. The desk itself was perfectly clean, aside from a scribbled note on some post-it note. 'Saturday. Ten. What does she see in him?' Hermione plucked the post-it from the desk and squinted. This was written in pencil, and most certainly Diggle's handwriting. Her body grew cold when she realized the significance of the date and time. Saturday. Her date with Diggle. But ten. 10 pm was when she had met Draco at his Manor for their own date. 10 pm was when Draco had kissed her. She crumpled the note and threw it clear across the room. "That man is a creep!"

"Yes, I think we've all gathered that much," Astoria lulled.

Hermione set to work rummaging through the different drawers. It took her a few unlocking spells to open them, but when she did she pulled them all out at once. "You could help, you know."

"I'm afraid to come anywhere near you, honestly," Astoria replied. "If you accidentally thought I was trying to escape you would try to kill me. I really don't want to risk it."

"Whatever." Hermione rolled her eyes. She started on the shallow drawer first. Nothing in this one but some quills, ink, and pencils. The next one held a letter opener (she tucked it in her pocket to use as a weapon later) and a wax seal stamp. She removed it from its sheath and turned it over to look at the indentions. When she did, she gasped. "Two wands, crossed in the shape of an X." She held it up and showed Astoria. "Wasn't this stamped in wax on that death threat you received?"

Astoria rose from her seat, Scorpius in tow, and approached carefully. When she was close enough to see, her eyes widened and she nodded. "Yes. That's the one."

"So Cane didn't send the letter to you. Diggle did."

"Unless we're not in Diggle's study. What if we're in Cane's?"

That thought had crossed Hermione's mind. But the way Diggle looked at the house when they first arrived. He knew it well. He was careful with it. Nothing had been touched in the living room. Not a single item. Someone who had stepped into a place they hardly knew would surely have taken a look around, which begged the question: why was this home so important to Diggle as to leave everything in its place? And where did Cane fit into all of it?

She glanced up to the rows of books set in a wall shelf behind the desk. A thin layer of dust had accumulated along the rows and rows of books. Then that got her mind to thinking. She started to search each and every bookshelf, looking for any trace of a book moved recently. She found it two minutes later on shelf just above her head at the far right of the room. It was old, and appeared to be bound in some kind of hide. She reached up to touch it, and a strange sensation tickled her bones. She frowned, drawing back momentarily. "This book here. It's filled with magic."

"And?" Astoria asked.

"And… I'm not sure." Hermione reached for it, and again the same sensation jolted through her body. It was as if the magic in her body was reacting to the book. "Could this be…?" She took the chance and plucked it off, and a burst of images fluttered through her mind like birds in flight.

**There was a dark tower.**

**A knife.**

**A dragon.**

**An infant.**

**Screams.**

**A man with two faces that shifted back and forth at an alarming rate until it was merely a blur.**

**Death. Destruction. Fire.**

Hermione dropped the book, and the images ceased instantly. It dropped to the floor and fell open on a random page. She inhaled deeply and backed away a few paces. "This is it."

"What is it?"

"This. This is the book." She scanned her eyes over the ancient runes set into the pages as if they were _burned_ there. "This is the Gray Magic."

"The what?"

"It's what Cane uses. Draco said it was this forgotten magic from another time. I've only heard legends but…" She reached for the book, and the book hummed back at her with a numbing vibration. She retracted her hand quickly. "This is what Diggle has used on me to control me. If I can just find a way to read it, I might be able to counteract the magic or at least control it myself." She pulled out her wand, thinking back to Diggle's commands. _Don't leave. Don't contact anyone. You are to wait here until I return._ He said nothing about using magic. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the book. "Astoria, if I start to act funny, throw something at me. I don't know how to control the magic in this book. Don't let it consume me."

"You mean I have an excuse to throw things at my ex-husband's play thing?" Astoria smirked. "There's a silver lining to everything."

* * *

"That's the last one," Dean said as they moved the last thick bit of rubble out into the back of the cellblock. They had uncovered the body of the guard about ten minutes ago, but it had been too late to save him. Draco was relieved that he was out of his shackles, but he felt practically naked without his wand. He had a good bit of wandless magic up his sleeve, but that didn't mean he felt confident enough to take on whatever was going on upstairs with just that. He'd have to try to nab a wand while he was up there.

"Shall we?" he said to Dean, putting on his prideful smirk to hide the fact that he was scared shitless. Dean led the way, and Draco followed closely behind. They took up the stone staircase and made it to the elevator.

"Do you think it still works?" Dean asked.

Draco pushed the elevator button. The sound of grinding and pulling could be heard from behind the doors, but considering the elevators were moved by magic and not pulleys, Draco couldn't help the sickening feeling in his stomach as the elevator door opened. They both stepped inside, and the caged doors closed. Slowly, the elevator pulled to the left and began its ascent.

"What do you think we're gonna find?"

"Death." Draco said quietly. "Lots and lots of death."

The elevator jerked harshly but kept moving. The further up they went the more Draco was anxious to get out of it before it somehow exploded. But the elevator stopped abruptly, opened its doors, and Draco's fears to die destitute in an elevator with Dean Thomas were alleviated. They stepped out into a lonesome Ministry hallway on the ground floor. The magical lamps that hung from the ceiling were still swaying, which instantly caught Draco's attention. He pushed his arm out and blocked Dean from taking a step further.

"It's a trap," he whispered, and searched around for something to test his theory. He broke off a button from his shirt and tossed it into the hallway. The button bounced twice before it rolled down towards the other end of the hallway. Dean looked as if he were about to point out that nothing happened when glowing red eyes suddenly opened in front of the door opposite of them.

"What. Is. That?" Dean stumbled backwards, bumping into Draco.

"That is a Hell-Hound," Draco replied. "Don't move."

"Why can't I move? Shouldn't I be running away from the invisible thing that looks like it wants to kill me?"

"If you make any sudden movements, it will attack."

"I thought they were just a myth."

"That's Cane's specialty - finding things that supposedly don't exist and giving them a purpose."

"Shite." Dean rubbed his eyes like he was trying to see if they were playing tricks on his brain. "What do we do?"

"I'm not sure."

"You're not sure? You're not sure! Oh, that's just great. You're not sure."

The end of the hallway growled viciously and sounded as if it had bared its teeth as they gnashed together. "Are you any good with shield spells?"

"I saved your life just an hour ago. Suffice it to say, yeah, I'm fair at them."

"Good. On three, build us the best damn shield you can. We're going up and over."

_"Up and what?"_

"Three."

Dean hastily cast a _protego duo_ charm around them both as Draco grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him into a dead run. The red eyes lit up, and Dean screamed as Draco shouted, "Jump!" Together, they vaulted over the invisible space, the spell skittering across the back of the large animal with Dean and Draco in tow. Draco turned around quickly as his feet landed and pushed his hand out. " _Repello Inimicum_!" A wave of shimmering bluish white light burst from his fingertips and trapped the Hell-Hound behind it. Thomas had already made it to the door and shoved it open. Draco nearly fell on top of Dean as they stumbled into a dark room. Draco kicked the door shut just as Dean threw up a new barrier charm to the rectangular sanctuary separating them from the Hell-beast.

* * *

"Wooh!" Dean shot his fist up into the air and cheered. "Hell yeah!" He nudged Draco in the shoulder. "Get it? Hell yeah?"

"We need to keep moving." Draco patted around in his pockets by instinct for his wand, and when he remembered that he didn't have it, his throat felt like it had bottomed out. He struggled just to find his legs (they were numb and jelly-like).

" _Lumos._ " Dean pointed the tip of his wand out and pushed the glowing light towards the room. Crumbled piles of desks, ash and dried blood scattered everywhere they could see. " _Lumos Maxima_." The light grew brighter, and they could see that they were standing in copy-making office not too far from the exits.

"Shit…" Draco ran his fingers through his hair. He had a feeling he already knew what was on the other end of the door out of here. "Aeris." He scrambled over the piles of rubble, uncaring if his hands were getting cut up in the process, and slid down a thick bit of drywall. He could hear Dean's failed attempts to keep up, but he was already so determined that he forgot all about waiting. He shimmied over a bit of foundation railing that stuck out at a horizontal angle and found the knob to the door. He turned it, jerked it open, and scrambled across the threshold to the Entrance Hall.

What he found surprised him. He thought for sure the Entrance Hall would be broken like the rest of what Ministry he had come across, but what he saw instead was much more horrifying. In front of each and every floo sat a mini version of a Pandora Box, and next to each box was one Ministry official with their hand hovering over the top. Their eyes were glazed over in a milky sheen, and their mouths were slack. Draco searched and found his favorite elderly witch that always looked the other way for him towards the middle floos. Her hands shook as the magic drained from her body, and her half-moon spectacles were dangling off the tip of her nose. "Not _Aeris_ ," he growled.

"Malfoy," Dean nudged him in the shoulder and pointed towards the very center of the room. Harry Potter, looking broken, bloody, and angry, stood in the middle of the hall in front of a muggle cine-camera that set off its own bit of electrical static every few seconds. Potter's hand clutched his wand at his side, but he did not use it. He was speaking into the camera.

"-those who know me as Harry Potter, the boy who lived." The muscles in his throat tensed like he was trying to fight the words from coming. "But the rest of the world doesn't know me. That's about to change." Potter's green eyes glared forward. "For too long, the muggles of this world have been kept in the dark about the people like me. But…" He gulped heavily. "But we have a leader to bring us out of the darkness and into the light. He will bring prosperity and peace between the mug-muggle world and the magical world. All wizards are ordered to lay down your arms." Harry blinked and crouched down to set his wand at his feet. "And rise up to a new world order."

"Fuck." Draco grabbed Dean and pulled them behind the receptionists' desk.

"What's Harry thinking?" Dean whispered.

"He's not." Draco shook his head. "Cane's speaking for him."

"I urge the Minister of Magic to come out of his hiding and turn himself in to the new ruler." Potter's hands balled into fists. "For every hour that you do not concede, Minister… one bomb will be set off here, and one in a city a city around the world. One hour, Minister, to bring yourself to justice. -Ginny I love you-!"

The camera's electrical lightning ceased, and Potter fell forward, as if released by a very powerful spell that helped him to stand. He fell onto his bandaged leg and screamed in pain.

Slow, amused claps echoed in the hall. Draco peeked over the edge, looking for the owner of those heinous claps; there, stepping out from behind a pillar, stood Gregory Diggle. "Beautiful, Harry. I'm simply in amazement. That was probably the best performance I've ever seen you do. And I've seen quite a bit watching you these last nine years."

Potter reached for his injured leg, where crimson pulled in the center of his bandages. "The Minister won't concede to these demands. You can tell Cane that."

"What will he do?" Diggle laughed. "His wards are down. The entire muggle population is going to witness the realization that magic exists. What power will he hold then? Will he let his brethren be slaughtered? I don't think so." Diggle glanced down at his perfectly manicured finger nails, and then perked his head up towards the table. "Auror Malfoy. Do come out of hiding, would you? I tire of cat and mouse games. _You're_ the mouse in this analogy." Fuck.

'Stay here.' Draco mouthed to Dean. 'Get help.'

Draco stood and revealed himself. "Funny enough, Diggle, I always thought it was that cat who hid in the brush before he pounced." He strolled leisurely from behind the counter and feigned an uninterested yawn. "But far be it for me to correct such an outstanding citizen such as yourself."

"That's _Auror_ Diggle to you."

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, but when you throw all of your eggs into an insane man's basket, the title of Auror really doesn't apply anymore."

"You're one to talk, _thief_." Diggle brandished his wand at Draco's chest.

Draco backed up a few paces. "Where's Hermione?"

"Would you look at that? The whole world falls apart, and you want to know where your darling Hermione is. Priorities, Malfoy. Priorities."

" _Where is she_?"

"She's safe. Tucked neatly out of harm's way. I told you, I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"Is that why you climbed the Cane gravy wagon? It all makes sense, now. Having her spy for you, forcing her to report back so you can give any and all information back to Cane. _That's_ why you covered up Weasley's murder. Cane takes out your competition, and you're now all gung-ho to what - destroy the entire Ministry?"

Diggle smirked. "To reshape it."

"And what will you do? Surely you don't think you're going to rule with Cane? He'll use you until you're no longer useful and then destroy you."

Gregory Diggle's green eyes gleamed with amusement. "Haven't quite figured it out, have you?"

"Figured out what?"

"Draco… I'm _hurt_."

"M-Malfoy," Potter said off to the side, catching Draco's attention. "The tattoo. Diggle's got-"

Diggle extended his hand, and the same black smoke that had hit Astoria now hit Potter, who fell to a heap on the floor. Again, the smoke crumpled instantly on the ground in a pile of white.

The sleeping powder.

Draco's entire body froze. He managed to pry his eyes back to Diggle's, who grinned maniacally.

"Oh. This?" He reached up to his collar and tugged it down. Four diagonal lines slashed just above his collarbone in the shape of a slanted triangle.

Draco's heart slammed wildly in his chest. Piece after pieces of the last three months came crashing together to form a picture.

D _iggle's burning hate for Draco and the love of the muggle community._

_Diggle's obsession with hiding Cane's involvement with Weasley's death._

_How Cane had managed to appear in the trial._

_Why no one was ever able to ascertain an ID for a ghost like Bastian Cane._

_Because there was no Bastian Cane._ Only Gregory Diggle.

"You're a metamorphmagus."

Diggle's soft green eyes darkened until they gleamed a most frightening black. "And bingo was his name-o."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bows head* BOOM.  
> ~A.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A SUPER SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO MY FRIEND WAYMAY who helped me come up with the next Hell-hound scene in this chapter. She and I are in the middle of writing a cool Dramione that you should pick up once it's out. It is so choice. LOL Thanks WayMay. :)
> 
> Gonna go ahead and say a thank you to MissPancake for editing! Damn time zones... half way across the world, but friends are still amazing. And MissPancake is just that.
> 
> A/N: Awww, looking back at my a/n's, I see where I finally met Waymay... *Hearts*

**For this next chapter, YOU MUST listen to Panic! At The Disco's "Emperor's New Clothes" because this is the best way to describe Cane/Diggle in a nutshell. This has been playing on repeat for so many chapters as I dropped Easter Eggs. PLEASE give it a listen, or better yet check out the YouTube video!**

**Welcome to the end of eras**

**Ice has melted back to life**

**Done my time and served my sentence**

**Dress me up and watch me die**

**If it feels good, tastes good**

**It must be mine**

**Dynasty decapitated**

**You just might see a ghost tonight**

**And if you don't know, now you know**

**I'm taking back the crown**

**I'm all dressed up and naked**

**I see what's mine and take it**

**"Emperor's New Clothes" by Panic! At The Disco**

* * *

Diggle began to pace the hall, his wand trained on Draco as he spoke. "I had really hoped you'd figured it out sooner. Not that I didn't enjoy this little game we've been playing; hiding in plain sight in front of you, pushing you, encouraging you. Isn't it fitting that I would be the one to train you up to become an Auror? I've been training you for years, and then here you fall right back into my lap. But I'm sorry to say you failed your final trial. All of the pieces were laid right out in front of you, but you couldn't see them clearly." He clicked his tongue. "Such a pity."

"Why…" Draco felt his throat tighten, and his voice went up an octave. "Why put on the mask?"

"Simple. As second in command of the Auror Division, I couldn't very well be seen skulking around Knockturn Alley and the like. Or associating myself with someone as… demeaning as yourself." He smirked. "Do you like the name? Bastian Cane. Would you like to know where I got it from?"

Not really, Draco thought. "I suppose you're going to tell me."

"Cane comes from my favorite treat growing up as a boy - my mother would make these festive holiday peppermint muffins with bits of candy-canes sprinkled on top. She was a baker you see. Very kind woman. Always put others before herself. And she was a muggle. Bastian - well, I thought Harry might figure that one out, but he obviously didn't do his research enough. My father. His name was Douglas B. Diggle. Care to take a guess what the B stands for?"

"Bitch?" Draco smirked.

Cane broke into a faint laugh. "I walked right into that one." The laughing stopped. "Do you want to know why Bastian Cane was so significant for me, Draco Malfoy? Why I'm telling you in front of all these witnesses?" He gestured to the glassy eyed Ministry officials; at the same time their hands drew down one inch closer to their boxes. Draco jolted, but when he saw that they weren't actually going to touch the Pandora Boxes, he relaxed his shoulders. "It all comes back to you, Draco. Every single bit of it."

"Me?" Draco scoffed. "I've got nothing to do with your parents."

"Quite on the contrary. Your path and mine have been intertwined for quite a while." Diggle lowered his wand momentarily, pensive. "Did Hermione ever tell you what my father did? His profession? He was a muggle born to a wizard father. So, being a man who grew up around magic but without any himself, he acted as a liaison between the muggle Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic. And he was brilliant at his job. So brilliant, in fact, that when the time of War was upon us, he was taken into possession by a couple of rowdy Death Eaters searching for information." His voice grew quiet. "He was left bleeding in the streets to die. And in fact he did, two hours later in the hospital. The doctors couldn't figure out how he had sustained so much internal damage. 'It was like he was dropped from a five story roof' they'd said. But my Father was found on the side of a country road, miles away from any building. I was already out of Hogwarts then. Was an Auror, same as yourself. So I went to digging through evidence. And do you know what I found? A single hair that didn't belong to my father on his robes. So I conjured up a Polyjuice potion and put the hair in. When I stared back in the mirror, your father's eyes stared back at me."

It was as if the proverbial rug had been pulled out from beneath Draco's feet. "My father wouldn't…" But he stopped himself, because he knew the next words would be a lie. Lucius Malfoy, in all of his splendor, had done many a terrible thing in his day. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Gregory Diggle spoke the cold, hard truth.

"Yes, he would." Diggle raised his wand again, flexing the muscles in his neck from side to side. "Do you know what it's like, Draco? To go home to your mother and have to explain a war she could barely comprehend? To tell her that her husband, my father, died simply because he was deemed unworthy by Pureblood ideology? Do you know what they carved into his arm, Draco?"

Draco stood as silent as the grave.

"Squib." Diggle spat the word. "Can you believe that? As if tossing him around until they'd broken nearly every bone in his back wasn't enough! They had to find a way to demean him even more." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "And then The Battle of Hogwarts came. So many lost their lives. So many muggle born children, simply because of their heritage. But not you, eh, Malfoy? No, you stayed safe and tight against your mother's breast. All of you Purebloods cowering in fear when you realised you had chosen the wrong side. But it was too late… too late…" His eyes shot back open, but they stayed that frightening shade of black. His pupils could hardly be seen beneath the darkness of his irises. "That's when I knew the world needed to change. And I thought I could do that here, through the Ministry. But then Potter came along…" He trailed his eyes over to the limp Harry Potter, who's breathing was shallow. "I used to look up to him. The boy who lived… what title! And then he came here. He rose up in the ranks and surpassed me. Do you know how long I worked - how hard I worked for the job that was never given to me? Do you know what that's like to be second best to someone who you clearly outrank in every way?"

Yes, Draco did know that. He knew exactly what Diggle felt. It was that same feeling he had gotten every time Hermione Granger had bested him in school or life in general. That envy was toxic. It could consume the soul if left unchecked. "Oh, boo hoo. You think you're the only one who lost someone in the War?" Draco scrunched his face up. "We all lost someone! We all lost a piece of ourselves!" His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and he grew quieter. "So why even seek me out, hmm? If my Father killed yours, why even come to me that night in the tavern?"

"Because you were the only one with the knowledge to unlock the secrets of the stone. And because I knew that your selfish heart couldn't resist doing something that would benefit you. You're all the same. Every single one of you Pureblood oafs."

"You're wrong." Draco tried to reason with him. "Astoria Greengrass. Take her as an example. She's never once harbored any ill will towards mixed blood. She was better than me. She taught me to think differently."

"An apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and her father was a Pureblood snob."

"And what do you think you're doing? Lumping her into a category with me? You're doing the same thing, Diggle. Don't you see that?"

Diggle's eyes flickered back to their emerald green. "You're very good with words, Draco. I'll give you that much. You know how to bend and shape them to always put yourself in a more flattering light. Is that how you managed to fool Hermione, I wonder?"

At the mention of Hermione, Draco grew very still. "I want to see her."

"You will." Diggle nodded. "But first, I'm going to need some information from that pretty little mind of yours."

"Piss off."

"Eloquent." Diggle looked down to his wand and smirked. "Why am I even bothering with this? It's not like I really need it." He tossed the wand behind him and made a beckoning gesture with his finger. "Come here, Draco." Draco's back felt like it was being pushed by an invisible wall that thrust him forward until he was only a mere five feet from Greg. "That's better. I want to have a good view of you when I tell you."

Draco crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow, masking his fear. "Tell me what?"

"That I have your son."

* * *

'Stay here.' Malfoy gave him a stern look. 'Get help.'

Dean watched Draco hand himself over to Greg, but he could still hardly believe this was happening. Greg and Dean had just gone to karaoke a month ago! They had sung 'Supermassive Black Hole' together! Muse! Nobody just abandoned a friendship like that… it was all a bit hard to stomach that your best mate could be a cold-blooded murderer.

He tried to think of a way to get help. The second set of elevators were set up on the opposite end of the Ministry Entrance Hall – they might be able to get a floo working with any luck. But… he'd have to think of a Hell of a distraction. Hell… heh. Yeah, that would do.

He crouched lower, down to all fours, and peered around the edge of the receptions desk. 'Come on, Malfoy. Get his back to me for a moment.' Diggle was preoccupied with Draco, but someone noticed Dean's presence. Harry's green eyes met Dean's, and he even though they were half lidded and full of pain, he knew exactly what Dean needed. He nodded once to him, and Dean nodded back.

"Haven't quite figured it out yet?"

Draco shifted on his feet. "Figure out what?"

"Draco. I'm hurt."

Harry struggled to try to stand as he shouted, "M-Malfoy! The tattoo. Diggle's got-"

Greg turned his head, and it was just enough of a moment for him to sprint to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry crumple to a pile. It took everything in Dean not to turn back and help, but he fought the Gryffindor in him and stayed on task. The sorting hat had told him he would have done well in Ravenclaw. Dean had never quite been sure about that. It was hard to keep your head when your loyalty pulled your heart elsewhere.

Dean reached the door, jerked it open, and shut it as quietly as he could. He leaned against the back of it, his heart pounding in his chest as he prayed over and over again that he hadn't been seen. A moment passed, and when he was thoroughly convinced that no one was going to come barging through that door behind him, he gave out a breath of relief and whispered, "Lumos." He wobbled over the support beam blocking him from the rest of the room and began to unbutton his robes. It was much too hot and much too late to be worrying about Ministry regulations. He sluffed the robes off of his shoulders and then got an idea. Carefully, he draped them over his arm and began to quietly make his way to the opposite door, where the Hell-hound would surely be waiting for him. His foot scuttled a small boulder, and the sound echoed.

Vicious growling, scraping, and dual-toned barks came from the hallway door. Dean could hear the thick paws scratching wildly, anxious for a bit of flesh. "Blimey… I suddenly regret never calling back Luna for that date three years ago…" If he got out of here, he might just do that. Raising his wand, he began to strip down his warding. Hands shaking, he stowed away his wand (for the moment), and pulled open his robes like a muleta. "I've always wanted to bullfight…"

The Hell-hound bashed against the door, bowing it out before it popped back into place. The wood wouldn't hold up long. Dean gulped, thankful that his lumos spell was still glowing from the tip of his wand in his back pocket, and readied his stance. "Here puppy. Nice puppy… Nice…"

The door burst open, and red gleaming eyes glowed heavily in the threshold. Dean stood his ground, robes off to his side, and the sheer terrifying thrill made his palms sweaty. He didn't dare move, but settled on staring into the Hell-hound's eyes. "Hey, boy." The dog growled. "Girl? Nice girl, then? Look, I know you probably don't understand what I'm saying, but my friends are in an awful lot of trouble."

The Hell-hound barked.

"Yeah? Interesting." Dean began to back up slowly, waving the robes. The hound's red eyes stared intently at the billowing piece of cloth and moved forward at the same pace. "Good girl… easy now… just a bit further…"

* * *

Hermione's eyes shifted over the runes as she ran her fingers lightly over the edges of the pages. The Gray Magic hummed against her own body's magical core, shaking it like ripples in a pond. She could feel it attempting to push her own magical essence out of her soul to make room. Every time it beat against her soul, she could see the runes a bit clearer, as if they were blurry before. They made much more sense now, and soon she'd be able to read them entirely.

"Miss Granger?" Astoria called off to the side, but her voice sounded distant in Hermione's ears. "Shall I throw a shoe at you now?"

"Not yet," she sighed anxiously, concentrating. "I'm getting something."

"Yes. A case of the nosebleeds, I'd say."

"What?" Hermione reached up to her nose and felt warm liquid. When she brought her fingertips to her eye line, she saw crimson. "That's not good." She wiped at the blood with the back of her sleeve, but a drop fell from her nose and dripped onto the page she was reading. Her eyesight literally rippled as the runes became readable, though she wasn't entirely sure what language they were or how she could read them in the first place. It was as if the book was trying to speak to her, but it had needed blood to bind her mind to it. Yes… that must be it. She sniffled, making sure there was no more blood, and brought the book up to her face. "I can read it."

"What does it say?" Astoria asked anxiously.

"Hold on. It's still new to me…" Hermione squinted her eyes. "This sort of magic… it's all wonky. It's scattered and sporadic."

"Details, Hermione, details!"

"I'm getting there…" She turned the pages back to the first and yawned. This Gray Magic was rather tiring. "It says in the days before creation, there were three sorts of magic. The light, the dark, and the gray. The light was said to bring prosperity and life. It is what sparked creation. And then the darkness came, and with it came death, destruction, and folly. The Gray Magic served as a barrier between the light and the dark. With it came imagination, choices, and consequences."

"Riveting."

"Actually, it is." Hermione shot her head up and glanced over at Astoria and a sleeping Scorpius in her arms. "Basically, Gray Magic is Magic that requires a price. It will not work for you unless you work for it. It must be why I could read the words after my blood got on the book. It will basically do anything you will it to, with simply a thought, so long as it receives payment first."

"Great. So how does that help us get out of here?"

"Let me look." Hermione flipped through the pages, scanning quickly over the runes. "In order to master Grey Magic, one must bind it to some magical object, and then feed the gray magic periodically. The more power you choose to use, the more you must pay the toll." Hermione slammed the book shut and closed her eyes in concentration.

The Pandora Stone. That must have been what Cane used to bind his Gray Magic to. Something that stripped magic would be ideal for a hungry magic such as the Gray. It could feed it unlimited power without any ill effect to the wielder.

"I need…" She glanced around the room. "I need…." Oh, she didn't have time for this! She ripped open the book and said to it, "I need to break this spell Diggle has over me. What can I offer as payment?"

The book shuddered in her hands and three runes glowed back at her.

'What have you?'

Hermione bit down on her lower lip. "Knowledge. I have a vast amount of knowledge. You're welcome to it. Any and all of it. As much knowledge as there are books in this room, and then some. Knowledge is power, as my Dad always says…"

The book quivered in her fingers. New runes shimmered.

'The Gray accepts.'

The magic that had been pushing at her soul suddenly dug in like vice claws, piercing her soul and gripping tight. It hurt at first, but then it began to ooze over her soul, coaxing it, numbing it until all she could feel was the vibrations of it rattling through her limbs and mind. She could feel it sifting through her thoughts, taking bits of information of her knowledge on magic, on life, on love. It was particularly interested in that, and it peeled back image after image of Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Ron. Her parents. Ron and her dancing in their home. Ron fumbling as he dropped the groceries. The first time she had ever made love, pressed under Ron's body, lips crashing together. It felt her loss of him. She could almost sense the Gray Magic's remorse. And then it settled on Draco, and it became conflicted.

"Diggle's used you against him, I know," she said, her eyes closed. "I want to protect him. I want to protect them all."

The Gray Magic in her purred. It stayed set on Draco's image in her head, observing him, pressing further into her memories of him. It raked over his childish taunts and his haughty smirk. It brushed against the very fabric of Hermione's feelings for him and then concentrated on his Mark. It careened back, and Hermione felt it trying to retract itself. This Gray Magic… it was so alive. Like a timid kitten with unlimited capabilities, taking on the traits of whomever willed it.

"But even you have your limits, don't you?" she said slowly, pressing her hand against the book. "You can only work within the magic you are given. You're an amplifier of the dark and the light."

Something hard smacked Hermione in the side of the head, enough to make her wince and open her eyes. Astoria had thrown a book at her. "What?" she said when Hermione glowered. "You said I could if I thought you were in too deep."

She sighed. "I was fine, Astoria."

The Gray Magic danced within her, and the books on the shelves began to rattle. 'No.' She told it. 'I'm fine.' The books ceased their movements.

"Doesn't seem fine to me," Astoria muttered.

"Look," Hermione replied, rising from her spot on the floor with the book. "Do you want to get out of here or not?"

"Oh, yes please." Astoria slipped Scorpius over her shoulder with one arm while gathering the diaper bag with the other. "Are you sure you're not going to… you know… off me?"

"I'm fairly certain." Hermione concentrated on the fireplace and thought about a floo portal within it. The Gray Magic tickled at her fingertips, and she snapped them; the flames shot up powerfully in the hearth, then snuffed out. She could feel it. She'd done it. She'd created a floo network out of sheer will. "This… this is powerful stuff." She nodded. "Well, go on."

"What? Where are you going?"

"I've got to find a way to get Draco out of the holding cells and find Diggle."

They Gray Magic jumped inside of her as if to answer. Images swept through her mind. It showed her Harry, standing in front of a camera. The Ministry in shambles. Draco and Dean crawling around in the darkness. She saw Diggle, and then Cane, and then Diggle again. The Gray Magic was screaming at her, but she couldn't understand what it was trying to say.

"Oh my God…" she whispered, meeting eyes once more with Astoria. "The Ministry's been under attack."

"And Draco?"

"He's… I'm not sure. He's out of lockdown, but I don't know much more than that." She tried to concentrate, but the Gray would show her no more. "You've got to go. Take Scorpius to Ginny's. You'll both be safe with her."

"I'm not leaving you to go fight off some crazed loon by yourself."

"Astoria - Scorpius needs his mother. Don't deny him that." The Gray pushed its way into her tongue, and her next words glazed like honey. "Take Scorpius to Ginny's."

"I'll take Scorpius to Ginny's." Astoria agreed mildly. She grabbed up some floo powder from the mantle, stepped into the fireplace, and was gone with a flash of green fire. Hermione, feeling quite triumphant with herself, brought one hand up into the air and high fived it with the other. "Way to go, me!" She caught herself, blushed, and waved her hand over the book to shrink it. After she placed it in her back pocket, she swallowed hard at the impossible choice of where to go first, and who to ask for help.

* * *

"-I have your son," Diggle said, his emerald eyes mirroring the smirk on his lips. Draco felt his heart sink low into his stomach.

"You lie."

"Do I?" Gregory Diggle flexed his hand and reached out to press one single finger to Draco's temple. "Tell me, Draco. Is the chance of my lying worth the risk of your son's life?"

Draco's breath caught. There were only three things in this world more precious to Draco than himself: Hermione Granger, Astoria Greengrass, and Scorpius Malfoy. Most of all, Scorpius. There was nothing in this entire world more precious than that.

"Why do you want what's in my head so _badly_ _?_ Why do you want the capability of wiping out magic at a city's range? What good would that accomplish?"

"I thought the answer was quite obvious." Diggle shrugged. "You can't threaten an entire population without having something to hold over their heads. The wizarding world can either choose to come clean to the muggles and learn to live peacefully, out in the open with them, or they can lose their magic all together."

"You're talking about mass magical genocide."

"No one will die," Diggle shrugged. "They'll all just be put on the same playing field. And those who wish to keep their magic will learn their ways in the muggle world. To appreciate muggles. To learn from them."

"And you'd put an innocent child in harm's way to accomplish this?"

"How innocent could he be? He's a Malfoy."

The door to the copy room burst open. "MALFOY! RUN!"

Dean came scrambling out, being chased by – was that his robes? Were his robes chasing him? No, Draco thought in a split second as he saw the red eyes underneath the billowing navy robes. He glanced back at Diggle, who in a moment of panic shouted and backed away. The eyes fixed on him, and Dean's robes (aka the Hell-hound) came bounding at Diggle in a mix of barks and growls. Draco saw his opportunity and dove for Diggle's wand, shouting, "Dean! Get Potter!"

"On it!"

Together, they scrambled away from Diggle and the hound and over to the limp body of Harry. Dean lifted his body with a quick levicorpus jinx, and with Harry in tow, dragged him flying through the air by his ankles towards the second set of elevators. Draco threw a protego spell over them and turned back to watch Diggle scramble backwards.

"Enough!" Greg raised his hand and the Hell-hound screeched. There was the sound of crunching bone, and then the pile of robes lay stationary on the floor. Draco could still hear the Hell-hound's painful whimpers as Diggle rose to his feet.

"Draco! Come on!" Dean shouted at him. Draco took off at once, sprinting across the Entrance Hall as the elevator doors began to close. Gotta make it… He picked up his pace and slid across the floor like he was sliding for home plate. He barely made it through before the doors slammed shut. Dean threw up a quick protection spell, and soon all that could be heard was the slamming of their hearts in their ears as the elevator began its ascension.

* * *

Gregory Diggle chuckled, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Let the games begin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I LOVE GREG DIGGLE! Suck a great villain!


	29. Everyone's Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copied from fanfiction.net at time of posting: Okay, so I want to start off by saying hello, and I am sorry that I haven't updated in like... 4 days? I went out with the girls Friday night not feeling so well, and then that ended up becoming an all weekend thing. Throwing up, head throbbing, the whole nine. I tried to write, but every time I did, my head felt pressured and I couldn't come up with anything that SOUNDED right. I like this chapter, but if it isn't as detailed as my other ones, just know I was fighting being very sick while attempting this. I might go back later after the series is over and add in little details, I don't know.

**Chapter Song of Choice:  
"Fixin" by Walk The Moon**

Don't even tell me where we are going  
Hands over my eyes, hands over my eyes  
Don't even tell me where we are going  
Just walk, just walk by my side

* * *

**Special thanks to MissPancake for editing this!**

* * *

For someone who had done most of his childhood running away from things, this had to be one of the only times in his life that Draco wished that he could have done more. Before the goal was simple: stay alive, whatever the cost. Now, as they struggled for breath in the Ministry elevator that moved this way and that, trying to find a proper landing spot, he only wished that he maybe had missed it all together to stay behind with Diggle. As if reading his expression, Dean spoke.

"There's nothing we could have done for them back there."

Draco gave an irritated huff.

"You know that, right?"

"Sure." But his thoughts fell on Aeris and her arthritic hands that shook as her magic was being drained from her. They could have at least tried to rescue one of the others… But it always came down to Saint bloody Potter. Every single time.

"We need to wake him up," Dean said, changing the subject as he nudged his friend's head cradled in his lap. It looked like Potter had lost a bit of blood, and unless they got him to a proper healer soon, there were going to be repercussions.

"Diggle's sleeping powder is strong," Draco told him,. "sSo there's not much else we can do but wait for it to wear off. Not unless dear old Greg decides to have a change of heart."

"That's not bloody likely…"

The elevator careened to a definite stop, and Draco scrambled to his feet, wand drawn. At a snail's pace, the doors opened. What they found sent shivers down their spine.

They were staring into the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, which appeared as if it had been given a boat sized load of its own medicine. Remnants of burn chafing sat at the base of their feet along the threshold. Blood splattered every wall. There was something down on the end, but Draco couldn't quite make it out. That was, until he stepped out of the elevator; Ron Weasley stood across from him. Half of his face was burnt beyond recognition, and he was glaring with those piercing blue eyes like the many times he had tried to defend himself back at Hogwarts.

"It's your fault!" he shouted, raising his wand slowly to eye level. "I'm dead because of you!"

"I-I…" Draco stumbled backwards into the elevator. He nearly tripped over Potter's legs as he went, but it didn't stop Weasley from approaching.

"How many people died because of you, Malfoy?" Ron Weasley was screaming at him. "How many lives did your precious Mark snuff out? Was it worth it? -You don't deserve Hermione! You don't deserve anyone! Those are my friends!"

"Malfoy…" Dean called to him, gentle. Draco carefully turned his head, eyes wide, heart stammering. "Malfoy, it's a boggart."

He blinked once, analyzing Dean's words. With a heavy heart, he raised his wand back at Ron.

"You gonna kill me a second time, Malfoy?" Weasley stopped when Draco's wand met his with only inches to spare. "She pities you. That's why she cares about you. She loved me. I was worthy of love - but you. You're nothing but a worthless-"

"Reddikulus!" He concentrated all of his power on thinking of a simpler time, before there was War; when there was nothing but childish rivalry. Before War and turned them all into pawns. The boggart, disguised as Ron Weasley, hunkered forward and doubled up clutching his stomach. There was a sound like stomach acid churning, and then Weasley upchucked a thick, slimy, disgusting slug. Despite his guilt, Draco cracked a smirk.

"That never gets old, I'm telling you."

The boggart panicked, honing in on anyone but Draco. It caught sight of Dean and smiled. Ron Weasley's body burst - literally burst- in front of them into hundreds of black feathered ravens with beady black eyes. Draco scrambled back into the elevator, pushed the closed door buttons, and shouted, "Protego!" The birds beat against the spell as the elevator doors screeched together and started their decentdescent downwards.

"So…" Draco said to Dean, . "Not that way then?"

"Doesn't look like it."

He collapsed to the floor in a puddle of nerves. All of this time, he would have thought it would have been Cane for his boggart of choice. And really, maybe it had been until he'd discovered someone who could make his cold dead heart spark back to life. Now… he wasn't sure he could ever go back to the way things had been before. If he got out of this - no, when, he scolded himself, when he got out of this… he was going to find Hermione and tell her exactly how he felt, reciprocated feelings be damned. He just hoped he'd have the opportunity to.

* * *

Hermione stared out into the crowded streets of police officers and military quarantine set up in a perimeter around the Ministry, which to any muggle would have just appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Guns were trained on the top of the building, which stood five stories up, where there used to presumably be an abandoned construction site. The rest of the Ministry was deep underground, but that didn't mean that the offices of Muggle Relations wasn't in immediate danger from the guns and tanks trained at them.

"It just came out of nowhere…" Someone was whispering as Hermione tried to nonchalantly pass through the gathering throng of onlookers.

"Did you see the television, Dolly?"

"That man said that people with magic exist. Do you think this is a stunt?"

"Well, where did this building come from then?"

"Terrorists, I'm telling you."

"What if it's real?"

"Wasn't just here."

"Castle appeared in Scotland."

"Did you hear about the invisible city?"

The hushed murmurs were like waves crashing against the beach, bringing another piece of the mysterious puzzle back with it. This was bad. This was very bad. The Gray Magic inside of her tingled her finger tipsfingertips like an itch wanting desperately to be scratched. Hermione glanced around at the crowd of muggles, catching eyes with a few people she knew were magical. Her sense of magic was heightened beyond anything she had ever experienced. She could feel it in each and every random wizard lost through the crowd. She could sense it in the trees, in the air, under the pavement. She closed her eyes, concentrating.

Hermione wasn't sure how she made it past the barrier inside the Ministry that prevented apparition, but she was thankful for it when she landed inside of the Entrance Hall. But her joy was short lived when she glanced around and saw the rows of workers with their hands over glowing blue boxes. Shining above each of their heads was a timer, and only one was counting down. In bright red, it shimmered '3:45' and moving to zero. She made a step to inspect the boxes, but a soft, low voice from the side called to her.

"I wouldn't do that."

Every muscle in Hermione Granger's body clenched tight like a seizure; her heart skipped a beat. That voice… She'd know that voice anywhere. It was the same one that had haunted her dreams for the past year. The one that made the butterflies in her stomach fly frantically for escape. She grasped her wand tightly in her hand and turned on the spot.

Blue eyes. That's the first thing she saw. Not the red hair. Or the freckles. Not even his warm smile. It was those sky blue eyes that had captivated her since she was eleven years old. "R-Ron?" She forgot every bit of the fact that she was dead, and she took off to him at a dead run. She slammed hard into his chest, arms wrapping around him in a grip that clung for dear life. Big, warm arms draped around her shoulders. He even smelled the same. "Ron…" She felt the tears already dripping down her cheeks. "You… you can't be… you're…"

"I'm right here, Hermione."

Her name on his tongue sounded foreign and yet familiar. "You can't be. You're dead." She peeled her face off of his chest and reached up to cup his cheek. "You're dead, Ron." He closed his eyes to her touch, leaning in. As his eyes opened, he bent his head lower and mimicked her by tracing his fingers across her cheek. "How are you here right now?"

"You really loved him, didn't you?"

A thick, foreign smile broke out across Ron Weasley's lips, and he chuckled. Hermione frowned, glancing about the room for some sort of trickery. "You… you're not Ron." She made to pull away, but his fingers wrapped tightly around her arms and kept her in place against him.

"Of course I'm not," he replied. "Ron Weasley is long since dead." He leaned closer, brushing his nose up against her; it was then that Hermione felt the Gray Magic spring to life within her body, reacting to the Gray Magic in his. She swallowed hard and narrowed her eyes.

"Bastian Cane."

"There's the bright witch we all know." The fake Ron gave a sly wink and pushed his lips down onto hers. Hermione screamed into the kiss, jerking, trying to summon up her Gray Magic to push him off, but the panic sunk in and she lost control. The hall around her vibrated, and when his lips pulled away from hers, green eyes replaced blue. Cane's hair wasn't that infamous silver-white, but rather brown and moppish. His skin wasn't pale; it was sun kissed. And his smile was an all too familiar one.

"G-Greg?" She scrunched her face in confusion.

"Someone's had their hand in the cookie jar," he smirked, releasing her. "So you dabbled in Gray Magic, did you? Feels thrilling. I can feel it pulsing through you."

"It was you." She reached up and smacked him hard across the face. Greg Diggle simply took it, closing his eyes as if he relished in the pain. "You're Bastian Cane!"

"The one and only. Or rather," he sing-songed, ."Bastian Cane is me." His eyes shot back open.

Hermione backed away from him and brandished her wand at his chest. "If that's true… you killed Ron."

"Well of course I killed your little husband." Diggle rolled his eyes as he tucked his arms neatly behind his back. "I suppose there's no point in denying that now. The ball is already rolling, so to speak."

"Why?"

"You could ask that question," he said, "Or you could save that man's life over there. Your call, Hermione. I think we both know which one you'll choose."

She glanced back at the man with the ticking timer. '00.:32' and counting. Hermione thrust out her arm and concentrated all of her Gray Magic on the blue box, sealing it in with a protective barrier. The tiny man with a paper thin mustache slammed his hand down, but the barrier caught him and rebounded him back. Hermione hadn't witnessed a Pandora Mine exploding first hand (Draco had shielded her from the last one) - as it set off under her magical barrier, it released a beautiful cobalt smoke that glistened like the twinkling stars in Draco's bedroom -. iIt was like looking into the universe itself. Its destructive force pushed against the Gray Magic, but the Gray was stronger, swallowing up all of the magic quicker than the box could deliver. Soon, there was nothing left but ash and a puff of smoke. As soon as the last bit of it fell to the ground, the man's glassy eyes faded into a brilliant shade of lavender. He twitched his upper lip, eyes widening, before he fell to the floor.

Hermione dashed across the room and fell to her knees in front of him. His body was shaking and out cold, but he was still very much alive. "Oh, Thank heavens…" She looked over to her shoulder to the center of the room, but Greg Diggle was nowhere to be found.

* * *

_Draco, can you hear me?_

Draco Malfoy raised his head from against the stuffy elevator wall and glanced around the container. They'd been in the hot box for nearly thirty minutes and had heard the explosion of the first bomb set off rippling through the Ministry (Draco prayed silently that it wasn't Aeris). The elevator had tried to find a good enough spot to stop, but with most of the exits closed off by rubble or perhaps magical interception, the trio of men were stuck in a sort of magical limbo, careening through the Ministry. They'd tried their best to avoid the boggart floor altogether.

"Did you hear something?" Draco asked Dean, who was busy tending to Potter's broken leg. Dean glanced up at Draco with his tired, brown eyes and yawned.

"What? No. Did you?"

"I… no, I suppose I didn't." He guessed it was a trick of the elevator sounds and leaned his head back against the wall.

_Draco? Damn it, why isn't this working…_

This time, there was no denying that there was a voice calling out to him in his head. He quirked up an eyebrow and glanced up towards the ceiling. Could this possibly be Diggle attempting some sort of interception into his head? It was hard to distinguish a voice. It shimmered in ripples across the metaphorical waters of his mind, echoing and distorting.

_Draco Malfoy! I know you can hear me! Answer me right now or I swear I will transfigure you into a pair of ears the next time I see you._

"Hermione?" he asked out loud, earning an inquisitive look from Dean.

The voice in his head sighed, and it honed in on Draco's thoughts, forming a solidified, feminine voice.

_There you are. I've been trying to find you for half an hour._

"How are you in my head right now?" He gave Dean a look as if to say, 'I'll explain in a moment.'

_It's a long story._

"No, it's a concerning story," Draco scolded, picturing her face perched above him, even though no one was actually there. "No one can penetrate my mind. Believe me, we'd all be worse off if they could."

_Well, I can. I've been in your mind before. We share a connection - it's how I was able to decipher you out of everyone in the Ministry._

"Where are you?" he asked. "Are you hurt? Is Scorpius with you? Diggle said he had-"

_They're fine. Scorpius, Astoria. They're both fine. Diggle thought he could outsmart me, but he clearly has a blind spot when it comes to his feelings for me. I found it, Draco. I found the Gray Magic._

Draco's insides grew cold, and he drew his knees up to his chest. "You're playing with fire, Hermione. You don't know what that kind of magic is capable of."

There was the sound of a tiny POP, then there, standing above him with her beautiful brown eyes and flustered face was Hermione. She smiled down to him, offering out a hand. "I think I've got a firm grasp on it now."

He could hardly believe she was real, but when he reached up and brushed fingertips with her, he knew. There was no denying that this was his Hermione. He struggled to his feet and jerked her into a fierce hug that shook the elevator. "Hermione."

"No offence," said Dean from the side,. "But how do we know she's the real deal?"

"Thomas-" Started Draco, but Hermione cut him off.

"No. That's fair." She nodded. "Ask me something - only I would know." She looked around patiently for a response.

Draco smirked. "I've got this one. Ice cream flavor, Miss Granger?"

She smiled back. "Chocolate mint with a bit of cookie dough."

They both burst out laughing.

"Yeah…" Dean tapped his wand on his leg. "You know that didn't make sense to the rest of us in the room, right?"

"Honestly," Hermione said, waving her hand over Harry's face, "I think you'd rather not know." Potter's eyes burst open, and he sat up instantly as he coughed. "Hello, Harry. Welcome back."

"Her…mione?" he whispered, eyes still slightly out of focus. Dean pulled Potter's glasses from his pockets and slipped them back on his face. "Hermione! What - what are you doing here? Where is here?" He jerked his head around the compartment in surprise.

"Diggle knocked you out cold," answered Dean. "But s'alright. Draco and I were bloody heroes."

"Dean was the hero," Draco scoffed quietly. "Don't dare count me in that bunch."

"Everything's going to be alright, Harry." Hermione assured him as she set her hand on Potter's leg. Draco watched in a mixture of awe and terror as she healed his broken leg with one touch.

"Herms… how did you?"

"It's a long story." She told him.

"Yeah?" Draco narrowed his eyes, letting his anger set in. He didn't know it really would until he witnessed the Gray Magic first hand. "And what price did you pay for it?"

"Does it matter?" she asked quietly.

The elevator came to a sudden, raring halt that made everyone wobble for balance. Dean helped Harry to his feet, and the four of them watched, mystified, as the elevator doors opened to reveal a sullen darkness.

"We're not even at a floor," Draco whispered to them, nudging up to the number dial that read out floor levels. It was stuck between levels one and two. Hermione pushed her hand out, feeling with her Gray Magic. She blinked a few times, then withdrew her hand to her side.

"Wherever we are, we're no longer in the Ministry."

Harry stepped up beside her. "Where do you think we are, then?"

"I can't say for sure." She furrowed her eyebrows together, looking between all three men. "It feels familiar, and yet…"

"Diggle?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded. "This definitely has his magic written all over it."

"Out of the frying pan, into the fire," said Harry. "This is obviously a trap."

"Well of course it is," sneered Draco. "Seriously, Potter, I think I liked you better when you were just a useless sack of potatoes."

"The question is," chimed in Dean, "Do we step out into the yellow brick road or stay put in our house hoping for another tornado?"

Draco didn't get the reference, but Hermione and Potter did, because they smiled at one another.

"Well, boys? What do you say? Do we go defeat the Wicked Witch of the West?"

"After you, Dorothy," Potter laughed.

"Who the bloody Hell is Dorothy?" Draco scowled.

"I'll explain it later." Hermione reached over and slipped her hand in his. His heart gave a tiny leap, and his lips pulled upward in a smirk. "But just so you know, you're totally the lion."

Potter chuckled. "Spot on observation, Mione."

Dean snorted. "Does that mean I get to be the tin-man?"

"You're more like the scarecrow. Sorry Dean. Together then?" Hermione offered her other hand out for Potter, who took it. Dean came to Malfoy's side and set a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Together," Draco replied. And with that, they stepped out into the vast darkness, ready to face whatever might lay ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Climactic event next chapter. Answers. All of the answers.  
> Please leave a review if you have the time.  
> ~A.


	30. The Strongest Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter. Oh. My. Goodness. Oh my goodness. Are we really here, already? It feels like a week ago when this story started. But we're here, and it's real. Be still my heart. This story has been an emotional roller coaster for me. I've poured a lot of heart, soul, and tears into this. I know, I know. It's just a fanfiction. A Dramione that JK herself will never support nor read. But I really hope I've done her characters justice. I've tried so hard to keep them in-character and put myself in their shoes. I wanted to re-shape the way we see Dramione. And I wanted to make a point through this story: That what you see on the outside is not necessarily what's on the inside. Judging someone with prejudices without knowing them is, to me, some of what makes human beings so entirely flawed. We all hate Diggle, but he represents a mass group of individuals who allow one bad event to reshape their entire views on the world for the worse. I'll delve into it more next chapter, but I just want everyone to see where I was coming from when writing this story. I hope it speaks to you in more ways than just lemons and romance. I hope that, when we get through the next two chapters, it will strike something within you.
> 
> By the way, guys, did I mention I began the adventure of letting my husband read this? O_O
> 
> Anyways, enough of the suspense! Here is the chapter! Thank you MissPancake for the edits and keeping me on my toes!

**All the writers keep writing what they write**   
**Somewhere another pretty vein just dies**   
**I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see**   
**That you're the antidote to everything except for me, me**

**A constellation of tears on your lashes**   
**Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes**   
**In the end everything collides**   
**My childhood spat back out the monster that you see**

**My songs know what you did in the dark**

**So light 'em up, up, up**   
**Light 'em up, up, up**   
**Light 'em up, up, up**   
**I'm on fire**   
**"My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark" by Fall Out Boy**

* * *

Grass formed at their feet, illuminating like translucent lights beneath them and lighting a path that only manifested under the presence of their shoes. Beyond them was infinite darkness, and behind them the small elevator box sat, ready for departure. Hermione felt Draco's grip in her hand tighten, and he leaned close to whisper in her ear, "You know what I could use right about now?"

"Some Felix Felicis?" Piped up Dean.

Draco snarled under his breath. "Dean, if you want our friendship to blossom, do yourself a favor and quit being such a cock block?" He halted at once, and everyone else followed suit.

"Must you?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"This could be my last moment with her - so yeah, Potter. I must." His silver eyes danced with amusement, hiding the prominent fear surely set in his bones as he leaned down and gently ran his lips across hers. Hermione half-expected to feel the exponential pain that had gone with Diggle's spell, but she then remembered she had asked the Gray Magic a way to break his hold on her. Draco, sensing no discomfort from her, set his lips delicately to hers. Hermione smiled into the kiss, freely accepting it. Dean gave a tiny cough and Harry made a sound that sounded like gagging, but they both ignored their friends and held their lips just a moment longer. When Draco pulled away, there was a new sort of purpose written across his pointed features, and he genuinely smiled. "Right. On we go."

Their feet carried them across the glowing grass surrounded by pitch darkness for what seemed to be miles. Hermione had warned them not to release each other until they could get a bearing for their surroundings. Time seemed endless in this place. She was just about to say something about it when the something brightened inside of the vast emptiness, and a flickering scene before them screamed out through the darkness.

They stood in the grand decadence of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The time was Christmas, and the Hall was decked out to the nines in decorative ice crystals, Christmas trees, and tables set with white tablecloths that glimmered with a silver sheen. Students were dressed in dress robes and dresses, attempting to sway formally around the dance floor.

"Wow," said Dean.

"Is this…?" asked Draco.

"The Yule Ball," Hermione said quietly.

Harry nudged her in the shoulder. "Mione, look."

All four sets of eyes pried up to the staircase as a beautiful girl in a periwinkle blue dress robes accompanied by Viktor Krum descended to the dance floor. Her hair was slick and pulled back in a beautiful bun atop her head, and she glistened with innocence and glamor.

"I didn't even recognize you when I saw you that night," said Harry. "Why are we seeing this, I wonder?"

Hermione made a bold move and released both men's hands, stepping away from the trio. Someone backed up into her, walking right through her. Hermione gasped, glancing back. It was Ron in his hideous dress robes, gaping with his mouth open as the younger version of herself stepped into the crowd with Krum.

"Ron…" she whispered, but he didn't hear her. He was too entranced by the beautiful girl who paid him no attention. No, she remembered. She had purposely tried to avoid him that evening at the beginning.

Harry's eyes followed hers and he smiled a sad smile. "Those robes were so hideous."

Hermione had a theory for all of this, but she wouldn't be sure until she took a look around. "Come on boys. Follow me."

She weaved her way through the crowd, occasionally sifting through the mob like the ghosts that they were. She paused momentarily when a bit of white-blonde hair caught her eye. Draco nearly ran smack dab into her and put an arm on her shoulder. "Do I always sneer like that?"

Younger Draco was leaning against the punch bowl table with his arms crossed as Crabbe tossed in a few alcoholic draughts from some vials in his pockets. His eyes were distant as his date, Pansy Parkinson, was rambling on about how long it had taken her to find the particular set of heels she had been wearing for the occasion. Why his eyes weren't on the pretty girl in her silver and green dress was beyond Hermione, until… she followed his gaze, which happened to be… oh, but that was silly, wasn't it? Surely he wouldn't have been gawking at her all those years ago? Perhaps he was mocking her in his head. Yes, that had to have been it.

The real Draco put his lips to her ear and said, "Even then, Granger. I just didn't know it yet."

A warm haze spread over her, and she whispered back, "That's flattering."

"Blimey, my robes were awful too," Dean Thomas said, motioning to his table a few feet away. His younger self and Seamus Finnegan were playing with a deck of cards.

"Focus, boys," she told them. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing a certain someone very soon."

Draco's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but then he glanced up and saw him across the room in less than the time it took for her to slip her hand into his again. Diggle, or should she say a younger version of the bastard, stood against the wall next to a pretty witch with blonde hair and magenta colored dress robes. His hair was shorter, and his eyes were glistening a shimmering blue. Of course they would be. Damn prick could change his eyes when it suited him. Maybe his date liked the color. Either way, the orbs were focused on her younger self as she took to the dance floor with Krum.

"This must have been the first time he noticed you," Harry told her, coming to stand by their sides.

"That's concerning."

"Why would he bother showing us any of this?" Draco asked to the group.

"Why indeed…" Hermione gripped Draco's hand tighter and summoned up her courage to walk across the room to Greg's memory. She got up close, examining his strong jaw. He had less lines on his face, but other than that he was exactly the same as today. "Why would you show us this?" she asked him. "What does this prove?"

"Greg," Diggle's date said from his side, jabbing him lightly in the shoulder. "Did you hear a word I've said?"

"Hmm?" He turned his eyes away from memory Hermione and towards the pretty thing on his arm. "Hey, Wendy. Tell me something. Who is that with Krum?"

"You don't know?" Wendy rolled her eyes. "It's all over the papers, Greg. Honestly. That's Hermione Granger - Harry Potter's friend. She's a fourth year."

"Is she?" His eyes flickered back over to the girl who had peaked his interest. "She's pretty."

"Sure. If you think fourteen year olds are pretty." Wendy stuck out her tongue. "Don't be a creep, Greg."

"What? I can't compliment someone younger than me?"

"This is your last year here. Don't waste your time with girls when you can be with women." She gave him a wink and sipped on her cup of punch.

"Yeah… you're right." He pried his eyes away and laughed to his date. "But I suppose she'll be a woman one day."

Wendy socked him hard in the arm, making him wince. "You're lucky you're cute, Diggle. Or I might break it off with you right now."

"You do know I had five offers to go to this ball? And I chose you."

"Gee, don't I feel lucky." Wendy rolled her eyes once more and downed the rest of her drink. "I'd like some more punch. Think you could fetch it for me?"

"Anything for you, Wendy." He kissed her cheek and walked straight through Hermione to the punch bowl. The group followed him, watching intently. Younger Greg approached younger Draco with a smirk. "Oy, fourth year. Move it."

Younger Draco perched an eyebrow. "Do you know who I am?"

"Someone that's blocking the punch bowl, obviously."

Younger Draco sneered and sluffed off the table. "Whatever." He looked back at the spiked fruit punch and grinned. "You know what? You enjoy." And with that he sauntered off to find Pansy Parkinson once again.

"He's been a part of our lives from the beginning," Hermione observed as the scene dissolved like flickering snowflakes in the night air. The darkness returned, and they all grabbed at each other to keep from the possibility of being separated. The grass beneath their feet lit up once more, and they began to continue their path onwards.

Somewhere between steps, they were in a hospital wing of the ICU. On a whiteboard next to room number 203, 'Diggle, Douglas B.' was scribbled. Hermione's breath caught as she released her old on her friends once more and led them through the mirage door and into the room. Douglas Diggle's face was hardly recognizable from all of the purple bruising and swelling. He was hooked up to a breathing machine, IV's, and heart monitors. Beside him, clutching his father's hand, was Greg. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I promise you, father. I swear on everything good that I will find whoever did this to you." Hermione stepped a bit closer, a ping of sadness in her heart. As Greg leaned up to bat away some of his tears, she saw fresh cuts in his father's arm -one's that nearly matched her own. Except instead of the word 'MUDBLOOD', it was the word 'SQUIB'.

"Oh my God," she gasped and placed a hand to her mouth. "Who would do something so terrible?"

"My father," Draco said, stepping up to stand beside her. His face was a mixture of emotions, ranging from disgust to embarrassment. He inhaled deeply, paling. "During the War."

"S'no wonder he has it out for you," said Dean, stepping up next to Draco. "Hell, it looks almost exactly like Hermione's…" His words trailed off as Hermione reached down and clutched her scarred arm out of habit. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and she hadn't realized that she was crying until a tear dripped down onto her hand.

"It would explain why he has such a hatred for purebloods," Harry chimed in from the back. "It's a wonder Lucius Malfoy got off with a slap to the wrist." He approached his friends, arms crossed. He squeezed in between Draco and Dean and set a hand on Draco's shoulder. "But you can't blame yourself for your Father's mistakes. And neither can Diggle. Believe me… even my Dad had skeletons locked away in his closet."

 ** _"You understand it now, don't you Hermione? My plight?"_** A soft voice whispered in her head. She looked to the others to see if they could hear, but they stared forward, unaware.

The lights went out again, and the same green, glowing grass appeared.

"It's like we're in a video game," Dean said to the group. Hermione could hardly disagree. Onwards they trudged, the grass lighting their path forward. A few minutes later, it was like the lights in a room had been switched on, and they were standing in the Auror Training Room of the Ministry of Magic. The room was empty, sans Auror Diggle and a man Hermione didn't recognise. He was holding a thick envelope in front of Greg's face. "This was all I could gather, Greg. I'm sorry there's not more…"

"This is perfect." Diggle reached out and snatched the envelope, prying it open to the first page. "Thank you, Gawain. I really appreciate this."

"Of course…" Hermione whispered, though why she did was anyone's guess. It's not like they could be heard. "That's Gawain Robards! He was the Head of the Auror division until Harry took over."

"Just… don't get your hopes up, alright?" Gawain patted him on the shoulder. "There's a war going on, Greg. Your father was a hard loss for us all. But don't let it consume you, yes?"

"Yes." Greg nodded. "Of course."

"You've got such a promising career here. Wouldn't doubt if you took over my job someday." He smiled warmly at his ward and left the room. Greg smiled.

The room dissolved once more, and then they were standing in the Entrance Hall of the Ministry. A hopeful looking Harry Potter and Ron Weasley stood proudly near the floos, waiting on someone. With a whoosh of flames, Hermione Granger stepped through the floo nearby, adorned in black and white dress robes and a briefcase. "How do I look boys?"

"You look gorgeous, Mione." Ron leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. The real Hermione stood only feet away, apprehensive and saddened. She'd never feel him kiss her cheek again. The memory Ron continued. "Are you excited about your first day on the job?"

"Am I ever!" She held up her briefcase excitedly. "I've already created three proposals to new amendments in the laws preventing House Elves from the equal pay unions! Isn't it great?"

Memory Harry rubbed the back of his head, smiling. "Sure, Hermione. Just… I don't know. Take it easy on them the first day, alright?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione frowned.

"It means we're used to you going above and beyond," chided Ron, "But the rest of the world isn't. Maybe let them get to know you first so you don't come off as… pushy."

"Pushy?" She frowned.

"Did I say pushy? I meant overzealous. Zealous is a word, right?"

"Yes, Ronald. It's a word." She leaned up and kissed him on the lips. Someone approached Harry from the side - someone with brown, moppy hair and emerald eyes.

"Hello, Potter." Diggle smiled warmly, hands tucked behind his back. "The Minister wants a word with us regarding our trip to Spain last week."

Harry Potter blanched. "You didn't tell him I set those Thestrals free, did you? Look, my friend Luna would have never let me live it down if I hadn't-"

"Relax, Harry." Diggle rolled on the balls of his feet. "I think he means to congratulate us."

"Oh…" Harry sighed. "Good."

"Who's your friend?"

"Oh. Erm… Hermione, this is Greg Diggle." Harry motioned from his partner to his best friend. "Greg, this is Hermione Granger."

"Pleasure," Hermione curtsied.

"Charmed," Greg gave a small bow. "I've heard quite a bit about you, Miss Granger. Harry speaks very highly of you."

"She's my girlfriend," Ron said quietly, eyeing Diggle up. "So… yeah."

"Does he?" Hermione laughed, pushing Harry playfully in the shoulder. "Well, I'll have to stop saying such terrible things about him, won't I?" She hugged Ron tightly and kissed him once more. "I'm going to be late. Lunch, though?"

"Lunch." Ron nodded happily as she took off down the Hall to the check-in desk. "So nice to meet you!" She called to Diggle.

"Likewise, Miss Granger!" Diggle grinned.

The voice in her head spoke again. _**"I've always had a soft spot for you. Even if you didn't notice me."**_

"I had forgotten all about that…" Hermione said to the group. "We didn't speak anymore after… How could I not have remembered that?"

"Maybe little Diggle wasn't important enough to be stored away in your memories," Draco said, smirking.

"I have a theory," Hermione said after a time.

"You always do," Harry replied. "Go on."

"The Gray Magic amplifies the magic that's already inside of someone. But it can only amplify what we already know. So, for instance, if I didn't know how to create a certain spell, the Gray couldn't give me an amplified, tougher version. It would simply be confused. It must be why Diggle isn't able to recreate whatever Draco knows - because Diggle doesn't know it yet."

"What does that have to do with the memories?" asked Draco.

"Think of this like the second trial. It projected images into a scene and made you believe they were real. I think Greg is using the same principle, but he's projecting his memories onto the canvas instead."

"So… we're in Greg's memories?" offered Dean.

"Precisely."

"But why? Why show us any of it?"

"Not us. Me." Hermione swallowed down a bit of vomit at the thought. "He's trying to show me how he feels about me. He's trying to convince me to side with him."

"Well, he's daft if he really thinks you would side with him," Draco scoffed. "He must be getting pretty desperate. Perhaps he fears that your magic is stronger than his?"

The lights came up again, but this time, it was in the sparring room one week into training. Hermione watched herself as she disrobed in front of Draco. Quickly, she turned around to watch Diggle's expression - she hadn't noticed it that day because she was too busy trying to comfort Malfoy about his Mark. She watched as Diggle's eyes scanned down her arm to the scarred words and his lips tightened. To the untrained eye, it might look like he was simply watching - but Hermione knew Diggle's tells now. It had struck a thick chord in him watching her expose her Mudblood arm. And she knew why. Because it was so much like the one his father had been branded with.

"That's why you wanted to protect me," she said to the memory. "That's why you stowed me away today."

"Don't tell me you're buying what he's selling," Draco sneered.

"I… I just feel a bit sorry for him, is all." She turned her head to Draco and chewed on her lower lip in thought. It hadn't occurred to her that Greg Diggle might have been a victim of war, same as the rest. He might not have been in the thick of it, the way Harry or Draco or even herself had, but… he'd still been poisoned by it.

The scene gave way, leaving nothing but the darkness once again. Not too far off in the distance stood a turret made from black bricks and attached to a pretty little home between two Oak trees. But that tower… it hadn't been there the last time. "I… I know this place…" Hermione gasped. "It's the place Diggle took Astoria and I to…"

"He took you here?" Draco asked quietly.

"You know this place." Harry frowned, turning to the blonde.

Draco nodded. "This is where I'd meet with Cane. That tower, there. It's the one I burned down, eventually."

 **A dark tower.** Hermione shivered. The Gray Magic had shown her this place for a brief moment. She wondered if she should tell the others, but someone apparated on the front doorstep of the house, and she fell silent to watch Draco Malfoy knock on the front door. It opened for him, and he turned to look over his shoulder before he stepped into the house and shut the door firmly behind him.

"Let's follow," she said, and they set off at a brisk pace up to the steps leading to the front door. The scenery around them shimmered again, and they were standing in Bastian Cane's study. Draco was busy rolling the Pandora Stone around in a chemical beaker as it drowned in clear liquid that frothed at the top. Bastian Cane entered through a thick wooden door and smiled to him.

"Draco," he said.

Draco raised his head and nodded curtly. "Cane."

"Already set to work, I see."

"Yeah." Draco pried his eyes away from the beaker long enough to notice the book in Cane's hands. "What's that? Doing some reading?"

"This? This is something I found in my Father's library the other day." Bastian Cane tossed the book on Draco's work bench, vibrating the equipment. The look Draco gave Cane could have burned a hole through his head if there were any magic behind it. "I think it will help us."

Draco raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "It looks like it's made from skin."

"It most likely is."

The blonde strolled over to the other side of his workbench and waved a hand over it. "What sort of magic is that?"

"From what I can decipher, it's Gray Magic."

"What?" He raised his eyebrow. "There's no such thing."

"That's what they said about Pandora's box, but you've seen proof of that yourself."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you. Where did you get it?" Draco nudged over to the stone. "It must have cost a pretty penny."

"I've my resources. And money's no object."

"From this dinky place I'd never have guessed." Draco smirked. "You really should do something with the home, Cane. It's a mess."

"I leave it the way it is as a reminder."

"Reminder of what?"

"That I must never forget my roots if I'm to accomplish my future endeavors." Cane smirked.

Hermione looked around the room, realizing… "It was his father's home. That's why he never changed it."

"Why don't you give it a go, Malfoy?" Cane asked Draco, pushing the book closer.

Draco glanced up at Cane and back down to the book. With a heavy sigh, he pulled the book open and stared at the writing. "It's gibberish."

"The book requires a price for its services," Cane explained. He reached out and grabbed Draco's wrist, pulling it close to him.

"What are you-?" Draco started, but was cut off when Cane pulled out a small pocket knife from his pocket and slit his friend's palm. Draco hissed in pain as his blood spilled over the pages. But then his face grew bewildered. "I can read it."

"Yes." Cane nodded.

Another image from The Gray Magic. **A knife.**

"This is unbelievable…" Draco scanned his eyes over the pages, soaking in the runes. "This would prove so many theories… Cane, you have to show this to someone."

"I am. I'm sharing it with you."

"You know that's not what I meant."

Cane laughed. "You always did have a sense of humor. Why on Earth would I want to share these secrets with anyone? Imagine if this fell into the wrong hands. Imagine what Voldemort would have done with this kind of power? No. This magic should stay between those who would use it for the better."

Draco took his time reading the book, flipping through each page with scrutiny. "The more magic you consume, the greater the price. So what are you offering to the book?"

"Simple." Cane reached over the table and picked up the vial with the glowing blue stone. "I'm going to connect its magic to the Pandora Stone. Once I do that, I will have unlimited power."

"Because the stone absorbs magic. So you're feeding magic with magic?"

"Exactly."

"I have to give it to you, that's not half bad."

"Thank you, Draco." Cane smirked. "With the Gray Magic, I'll be able to advance our research tenfold. What will you offer it?"

Draco scowled. "I'm not going anywhere near that stuff."

"But the benefits-"

"The only benefit I need is here." Draco pointed to his forehead. "I'm not about to delve into something I don't understand. I'm already chin high in that as it is with this stone. No, you have at that stuff, Bastian. I'd rather not run the risk of trading something I can never get back."

"You turned down the Gray Magic," Hermione said to the real Draco, turning her head to him. He closed his eyes, remembering.

"I thought about it a million times. I thought about doing it just to see if it could remove the mark. And I did, once. I went to the book and opened it. I asked it what it would take to remove something like the Mark."

"What did it say?" asked Harry.

Draco's eyes pulled back open and he clenched his jaw. "It wanted a life. Freely given, the way mine had been to the Mark. Astoria had just become pregnant… It frightened me."

"And that's why you left?" Hermione asked.

"I could see what the Gray Magic was doing to Cane. Turning him bitter and heartless. He said it was all for the muggles, but I could see it was driving him mad." Draco swallowed hard. "That's why I'm so pissed at you for getting involved with it, Hermione. There's a reason our ancestors buried that kind of magic deep down so that we couldn't find it."

 **An infant.** That's what the Gray had wanted for Draco's freedom.

"It wanted your son? As payment?" asked Dean.

The Gray Magic inside of her tugged roughly at her, as if it were trying to tell her something. She scolded it. She just couldn't believe something that lived inside of her could be capable of such a thing. She thought of the other images that the Gray book had given her. **A dragon.** Her eyes drew up Draco's face and she realized: the dragon the book referred to was Draco. It was in his name. But why would the Gray Magic show her all of this? What did it have to accomplish?

The scene dissolved once more, returning them to the black. This time, not even the grass appeared.

"I never went mad, Draco," Ssaid a voice from all around them. The four jumped in response, eyes searching every which way for Gregory Diggle. He appeared in front of them, sitting quietly in a large, red plush chair. One of his legs was drawn up next to him, his arms draped lazily over the armrests. "The Gray enlightened me. -You understand, don't you Hermione? You, out of everyone, understand the Gray's potential. How powerful it can be. How it can do just about anything you can will it to. I had to use it - and now you see why. With this power, I can protect people like you and me from ever having to have their hearts broken again." He rose from the chair, palms out. "What happened to you - those marks you received… they should have never happened. But it's because of people like him,." his eyes trailed over to Draco,. "tThat people like us suffer. You see now? Why I have to tear down the Ministry and its ridiculous rules? It protects those with magic, but seeks no justice for those without it. But with the Gray, you and I have the potential to mold the new world into a place that will protect them. Isn't that something you've always aspired for? For the little guys to have a voice? Isn't that what drove you for your work with the S.P.E.W.?"

His questions beat at her conscience with astonishing ferocity. She took a step forward, wand drawn. "You say you want to protect muggles from those who would do them harm. You make it sound so innocent, but… but you killed Ron!" Tears rolled down her cheeks suddenly. "How could you even stand there and pretend to care about me when you took away the one person whom I loved more than anything?"

Greg nodded slowly, processing her words. He sighed a dull, bored sigh and offered one hand out. "You want to know what happened to your husband? I can show you. You just need to come with me."

"She's not going bloody anywhere with you," Draco growled, stepping in front of Hermione like a shield. She smiled meekly; the cowardly lion had finally grown some courage after all.

"You'd deny her the answers she's craved for so long?" Diggle asked, quirking a superior eyebrow. Draco puffed out his chest a bit more, wand trained at his adversary.

"Anything you'd have to say to her, you can say to the rest of us."

"Yeah," Dean said, stepping up beside Draco. "What he said."

"Et tu, Dean?" Greg smirked.

"Malfoy's right." Harry also stepped forward, all three of them shielding Hermione. "You want her? You'll have to take the lot. That's just how this family works."

Through the cracks between shoulders, Hermione could see Greg's dissatisfied expression as he yawned. "Very well. No need to bring down the entire big brother's club on me." He snapped his fingers, and the scene lit up like Christmas. At the same time, Draco, Harry, and Dean disappeared from her line of vision and reappeared, each in his own corner of the room, leaving just Greg and Hermione in the center.

Draco was the first to move, but an invisible barrier smacked him in the face as he took a step forward, and he barreled back into the corner, perturbed. "Oy!"

"I said you could watch," Diggle smirked, glancing around to the men. "But I never said you could be a part of the fun." He winked to Draco. "Don't worry, Malfoy. You and I will have our turn yet." Hermione raised her hand to take down Diggle's barriers, but he flashed her a warning glare and shook his finger at her. "If I even think you're about to use your magic before we're done, I'll snap their necks. And I'll start with dear Harry first. Do I make myself clear, Hermione?"

She cast a glance to each of her friends, feeling the crippling defeat wash over her. She wasn't as trained as Diggle was with Gray Magic. If she even made one mistake or hesitated for a moment, she could get them all killed. She'd come up with something else, she told herself as she conceded and nodded to him. "Yes. You're clear as day." Her words were crisp. Diggle grinned and glanced around the room. "Recognizse where we are?"

Hermione spun around, taking in the scenery. It was a living room, quaint and sparse with a poorly stitched orange sofa and mismatched throw pillows and recliner as it's only furniture. The walls were a soft yellow - yes, she remembered picking out that yellow. Canary yellow, if she remembered correctly. This was their home; hers and Ron's. Ever since his death, she hadn't stepped back inside of it. The deed was still in her name, but it was gathering dust, much the way Diggle's house had been. "Why are we here?" Sshe squeaked out.

There was a whoosh from the fireplace that startled Hermione and she jumped back; two men stepped out of the floo. One of them had brown, moppy hair and the other wore his hair red. Ron stepped out first, hands in his pockets. His face was unreadable, but tense. Maybe as if he were trying to conceal his emotions. Greg stepped out next, brushing a bit of dirt from his robes.

"Auror Weasley, do you mind telling me what we're doing here?" asked Greg. "I promised Dean we'd go to lunch together."

"Oh? Am I cutting into your time?" Ron said, his back turned to Diggle. "So sorry. Should I have made an appointment?"

Diggle frowned. "I'm sensing some hostility in your voice."

"You're damn right you are." Ron spun on his heels, eyebrows furrowing. "I'm going to give you one chance, Diggle. One, because you're my mate's partner. If you weren't, I'd be going to the Minister himself right now."

"What's this all about?"

"I know." Ron jerked a piece of paper from his pockets and shoved it up at eye level for Diggle to see. "I know you've been pilfering money from the department. You're good, I'll give you that, but I've got the evidence and I'm going to go to the Minister unless you give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't."

Diggle crossed his arms and smirked. "Is that all this is about?" he chuckled. "Really, and here I thought I was being accused of something more pressing. -Yes. I took the money. But for good reason, Weasley, I assure you." He glanced around the room. "Is this your home? Adorable."

"Shut it with the small talk, Digs. You better start explaining. Now."

"Of course. Of course." Diggle uncrossed his arms and rested them gently at his sides. "I'm not doing anything nefarious with the money. I'm using it to research."

"Research?"

"Yes. On how better to protect the Muggle community. My colleague and I are developing some technology that I think will soon be beneficial to muggle born families, such as your wife's."

Ron's eyes narrowed as he soaked in Diggle's words. "Yeah? And what would you know about Hermione?"

"Harry talks quite fondly of her. I've heard many stories - about all of you."

"Hmph." Ron crossed his arms. "I'm not as thick as I seem, you know. I see the way you look at her."

"Pardon?"

"The way you look at my wife. When she comes in to run me lunch or stops by the office, you always stop what you're doing to watch her. If you think I don't see it, you're the daft one."

Diggle shrugged. "Whatever you think you're seeing, I assure you, you're quite wrong. I just admire her. That's it. She's a wondrous War hero. The only thing that keeps running through my mind when I'm looking at her is how she ended up with you."

Ron was fuming. "If you're trying to convince me not to go to the Minster, you're doing a bang up job." His sarcasm wasn't lost on Diggle.

"My apologies." Diggle threw his hands up. "I could show you, if you'd like. What we're doing. And if you're not convinced by the end of my demonstration, I assure you that I will gladly turn myself in. Does that seem fair, Auror Weasley?"

Ron's blue eyes glimmered as he debated with himself. After a few moments, he nodded. "One chance, Diggle. That's it. And if you try anything, this isn't the only copy that I have." He shoved the parchment in his pocket. "When?"

"Tomorrow? Lunch time? We could apparate if you'd like. I'm afraid the floo hasn't been set up in quite a few years."

"Sure it's not to make it untraceable to the Ministry?" Ron scoffed. "Fine. Send me the address."

"Very well." Diggle bowed politely. "Thank you for being… so understanding, Weasley. I really appreciate your discretion on this matter."

"I'm not doing it for you," Ron replied,. "I'm doing it for Harry. Remember that."

"Yes. Of course." Diggle stepped back to the fireplace and strummed his fingers along the mantle. "I think you'll find our research will light a fire in you." He smirked and stepped inside the floo. "Until tomorrow."

The scene dissolved away, and Hermione realizsed with a ping of fear that so had Harry, Draco, and Dean.

"I hope you don't mind if I don't show you the next bits?" Diggle said, smirking. "I did meet with your darling husband, as Bastian Cane. I showed him my research. I tried offering him a seat of power in it all. But then he drew his wand on me…" He shook his head, feigning sadness. "Needless to say, I had to put him out of his misery." Hermione's eyes darted around for any sign of her friends as she listened to him continue. He took a step closer to her.

"But… but Harry said you were with him the day that Ron…" she said quickly, buying time. She reached out with the Gray magic to sense them, and honed in on one particular soul. The one that the Gray magic was most drawn to.

"Well, I had to give myself an alibi. When I sensed Weasley's disinterest in my endeavors, I knocked him out with my sleeping powder and locked him away with a Pandora Mine. Actually," he chuckled to himself,. "It was Draco's very first one. So in a way, I suppose you have him to thank for your husband's untimely demise. My, how it all comes full circle."

Hermione smiled sweetly up to him. "Indeed." She snapped her fingers. There was a sound like cracking glass, and behind Diggle's back the blackness burst apart and scattered. Draco Malfoy emerged from a sea of white, out of breath and sweaty, but smirking all the same. Diggle turned on his heels just as Draco waved his wand and shouted, "Confringo!"

The ground beneath Diggle's feet exploded, sending him flying backwards into the air to land hard on his back. Hermione gathered the magic around her and snapped her fingers twice. Two more cracks in the blackness burst apart, revealing Dean and Harry.

"Holy shite." Dean said, panting. "That was, by far, the freakiest experience of my life."

"Tell her about it later," Harry scolded him. "Focus!"

Hermione swiveled on her toes and turned to face Greg as he struggled to his feet. His hair was disheveled, and he looked to be in a fair amount of pain. Good. "I'm going to give you one chance, Greg, to do the right thing. Give us the Pandora Stone and disarm your boxes."

"You really think you're a match for me, Hermione?" Greg laughed. "I give the Gray unlimited power through that stone. What makes you think your offer is more powerful than mine?"

"Because." Hermione glanced over to Draco, breaking out into a warm smile. "I offered the Gray knowledge. And do you know what it found most inspiring? Love." She reached out and grabbed Draco's hand, weaving her fingers between his. Her eyes stayed locked in the silver flecks of his irises. "The Gray magic didn't want to take your baby, Draco. It wanted to experience it, through you. Because the one thing it craves more than anything is love." She turned her head towards Diggle. "And it's love that's going to defeat you, Greg. Because I'm surrounded by it. Through my friends. Through my memories of Ron. And through him." She pulled Draco's hand up with hers to eye level. "And that's one thing you'll never understand. Is that love can change you. It can turn a broken Death Eater into a caring Father. It can change someone's perceptions of the world and strip away prejudice. What you're doing isn't out of love. It's out of revenge."

She extended her free hand to him.

"Come on, Greg. I know you have it in you to turn this around. Please. If you care about me, you'll stop what you're doing." Her voice was soft and kind. "I know there's good in you, Greg. You've just got to believe in yourself again."

Greg Diggle faltered for a moment; his green eyes softened, and his hand crawled slowly into the air as if to reach out to her. But then his gaze turned to Draco, and his eyes faded into that murky black. "…You'd choose that worthless swine? The one that tortured you over and over again? The one whose family brought about so much destruction?"

"He is not his family." Hermione replied. "And neither are you. Is this what you think your Father would have wanted? Honestly?"

"My Father…" He closed his eyes. "My father isn't here to say what's right or wrong!" Fire burst from his skin, blazing around him and licking the air in a brilliant display. The flames did not burn his skin, but his clothes began to singe and melt from his body. "My father was taken from me! By his! I deserve my revenge!" The flames flickered into a blue haze. Diggle had lost all control - his body began to shift between the faces of Cane and himself as if he couldn't ascertain which to identify with. Hermione's Gray magic called out to her to warn her that he was out of control. She listened, backing up and creating a barrier between her group and Diggle. The Gray magic had predicted this too. **A man with two faces. Death. Destruction. Fire.**

"Greg!" She shouted to him. "Greg, you need to control yourself!"

"No, Hermione." His voice rang in two pitches, like the voice of Cane and Diggle all at once. "What I need is my revenge." He cast out his hand and a fireball the size of a Quaffle burst out of his palm, careening in Draco's direction. Hermione concentrated, moving her arms further apart to expand the barrier. The fire burst apart upon impact with her spell. Draco squeaked a gasp of surprise and then narrowed his eyes.

"That all you got, you sodding bell end!?"

"Draco!" Hermione scolded. "Don't antagonizse!"

"Malfoy, listen to her," said Harry.

Diggle smirked, waving his arms to create a massive hurricane of flames and wind that beat against Hermione's defenses. "I bet you think your love for your friends is powerful, but you know nothing of power." He pushed his hands out further, and her feet scraped backwards across the floor.

"I don't think my magic is going to hold!" Hermione shouted to them.

"Well then," Draco smirked, standing by her side and raising Diggle's wand. "Let's just help with that. Protego Maxima!" Blue light shot forth from his wand and wove between the Gray magic, firming it. Hermione sighed an anxious breath and nodded. Harry and Dean joined in, casting Protego Maximas of their own, until the shield was one solid, see through mass.

Diggle, realizing his plight, ran at the barrier and slammed his fist against it. The power that came behind it was frightening - like the strength of a giant. Hermione slowly lowered her arms, her barrier still intact. She looked to the men around her and smiled. "Hold the spell, boys."

"What?" Draco glared at her. "Where the Hell do you think you're—Hermione!"

She stepped through the barrier to the other side, face to face with Gregory Diggle. His chest was heaving up and down, and his eyes stared wondrously at her as she raised her hand and touched his cheek. The flames went out instantly. His face stopped shifting, and rested on his original face with soft green eyes and boyishly handsome looks. Quietly, Hermione placed her other hand on the other side of his face, and she leaned up, pulling his face down so that they were both nose to nose. "I forgive you, Greg," she said. "I forgive you." Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "For everything. For Ron. For the Ministry. All of it." She stroked his cheek, nodding. White light burst from both of their bodies, and Hermione could feel her Gray Magic reaching into his body. Love pulled at each stitch, unraveling his bond with the Gray. Love for Harry. For Dean. For Scorpius. For Astoria. For Ron. For Draco. Her heart was full of it, and in one brilliant sweep of her thumb across his cheek she destroyed his connection. Greg Diggle gasped, and his knees buckled. He fell to his knees before her, naked and vulnerable, his face still cradled delicately in her hands. "But I won't ever forget." She drew her knee back and then forwards, landing a cutting blow to his face. Diggle fell backwards as blood spilled from his nose.

Hermione smiled proudly at the disoriented Greg Diggle. "That one's for Ron. -He's all yours, boys." She snapped her fingers and the barrier crumbled into a pile of ash.

Diggle, finding is senses, struggled to sit up and cast his hand outward - nothing happened. Not a single thing.

Draco smirked, stepping up to the plate as he hovered above him. "Oh, did the big bad witch take away your favorite toy?" He reached down and yanked Diggle up to stand. "I'm going to enjoy this." He threw a nasty punch into Diggle's jaw, and Greg fell down to the floor again. "That one - well, that one's for me." He glanced down at Diggle's naked form. "Hermione." He smirked back at her. "Hermione, do you see how little it is?"

"Really, Malfoy?" Harry brandished his wand and from it burst magical-defusing cuffs that snapped quickly around Diggle's wrists.

Dean put his hands over his eyes and waved his wand, conjuring up a pair of trousers on Greg's legs. When he was sure that Diggle was clothed, he removed his hand and shook his head disappointedly. "We were karaoke buddies. And you broke that bond. I don't even know who you are." He reached down, pulled Diggle to his feet and pushed him forward with the tip of his wand. "So disappointed in you. You made a marvelous tenor."

"I have to say," Draco said, bringing Hermione out of her thoughts and back to reality. "You really surprised us all back there."

"Yeah?" She smiled.

"Oh yes. All that bit about love." He quirked an eyebrow, slipping a hand around her waist. "That was quite clever."

"Yes, well…" She blushed. "I suppose I am that."

"No." Harry put a hand between them and pushed his face into their personal space. "Not in front of me. Do you hear me? You two can at least wait until we're back in the Ministry. We have a lot more to sort out and… and I don't need to see you two… do… whatever this is." He wagged his hand between them.

Draco smirked and brought Hermione's hand up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. "It's called love, Potter."

"What?" Harry blanched, stepping back.

"What?" Hermione whispered, the blush crawling back up her face to stay there. Her mouth became very dry, and she forgot how to stand. Her knees buckled, and Draco grabbed at her, the hand around her waist cradling her into a perfect dip that brought their faces nose to nose. "W-What?" she said again.

"Oh, you're going to try to deny it now?" He quirked up that infamous eyebrow and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. "I told myself that the moment that this was all over, I was going to tell you how I felt. So…" He stumbled over his words quickly, "I-guess-what-I'm-trying-to-say-is-that-I'm-in-love-with-you." He paused momentarily, mustering up more courage. " I love you. So what are you going to do about it, Hermione?"

"You…" She reached up and brushed back a bit of his hair from his eyes. "You love me?"

"Did I stutter?"

"N-No…" She chewed on her bottom lip and averted her gaze for only a moment before reaching up and smothering him and a heated, passionate kiss that nearly toppled them both over. When his tongue met hers, she sighed, coming to the firm conclusion that she supposed it felt amazing to hear someone say those words to her again and mean them. And it felt even better as she realised that, beneath it all, she was in love with him too.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (attempts to start a slow clap with everyone in the audience) clap...clap...clap... Snape... Snape... Severus Snape! DUMBLEDORE!
> 
> Anyways, we have one more chapter left. One more to wrap it all up. I will be answering reviews, pointing out the Easter Eggs, and giving some various Author's Notes at the beginning and end of the next chapter. Are you ready? Only one more...
> 
> But fear not! Because... dum dum DUM! How To Train Your Auror 2. It's a thing. It's happening. XD
> 
> Please leave your thoughts in the little box below?   
> Love, A.


	31. Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter... I wrote this a long time ago, but posting it here: it still gets me teary eyed. My heart is racing. I have goosebumps. I love this story so much. It is a defining bit of my writing life. Hope you love it just as much as me.
> 
> Here we are. The final chapter. I can't begin to express my gratitude for every single one of you that have made it this far. You've traveled on a journey with me through self-discovery. With each review, I got a bit braver. With each chapter, I found my voice a little bit more. I'm so honored to have created a fanfiction story that has drawn in all types of viewers from all walks of life. It is humbling, and I am forever in your debt for giving me the courage I needed to create this story and share it.
> 
>  
> 
> NOTE: MissPancake has done all of the edits! Thank you, love!
> 
> Some Author's Notes I would like to share before we begin:
> 
> I am a very accepting person. I've always said that I wouldn't let my past define my future. I came from an adopted family, but I was never bitter. I was raised very prude, but I never let it consume me. I've lost more friends than I care to admit because of stupid, selfish mistakes and misunderstandings. While I'm Hermione Granger, I am also Draco Malfoy. My demons haunt me every day, but I made a vow when my son was born to change myself for the better. And it was through my son that I grew into the person I am today. He's inspired me, much the way Scorpius inspires Draco through the story. It's hard to let someone down when they're looking to you like you're the entire universe. Every step of admitting a wrong is another step in the direction to make it right. Please, always remember this. And never settle for someone who won't accept your flaws. All of them. Even the ones that have scarred you, you must find someone who can look at your scars and find them beautiful, because they make up who you are. My husband has taught me this. As Draco pointed out, everyone needs a Hermione Granger in their life. I hope you find yours and hold them close.
> 
> On the subject of Gregory Diggle: He represents the friends I have seen that have been consumed by pain and heartache. These types of people are obsessive, compulsive, and always think they're doing the right thing, even when it is wrong. To every villain, they are themselves the hero, and Diggle is no different. It isn't until Hermione forgives him that he's able to see clearly, for the first time, who he really has become. But by then, the damage had already been done. The parallels between Diggle and Draco are actually so similar it hurts. Both raised to love their fathers. Both scorned by the acts of War. Draco wears his regrets on his arm, and Diggle wears his regrets in his heart. The difference is acceptance of the past. Draco wants to move forward. Diggle can only look back. It is the only thing separating them from being the same person. I think Diggle's obsession with Hermione first was infatuation that turned into something more because she represented everything good from his past. His jealousy of Ron was probably the reason why he simply didn't tamper Ron's memory and let him live. Ron didn't know it, but he had given Diggle the perfect excuse to rid him from Hermione's world. I think Diggle thought that once she was done grieving, she would fall perfectly into his arms. But, alas, it was not so.
> 
> At the end of this chapter, I will point out all of the Easter Eggs that left you clues for the Diggle/Cane connection.
> 
> And again, expect a How To Train Your Auror 2!

**You fell down by the wayside**  
**Love locked in an overflow**  
**And you threw stones at the starlight**  
**Cause I stood on the sidelines telling you**

**That I get that you're lonely**  
**And I see that you feel alone**  
**But I heard in a heartbeat**  
**I'll be there here for you, you know**

**So when you're caught in a landslide**  
**I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you**  
**And in the rain, give you sunshine**  
**I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you**

**And every time that you're lonely**  
**Every time that you're feeling low, you should know**  
**I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you**  
**I'll be there for you, you know**

**"Landslide" by Oh Wonder**

* * *

Hermione smiled down at her morning edition of the muggle paper, bringing a cup of steaming tea up to her lips.

'Breaking: Harry Potter Pulls Off the Greatest Illusion in Magician History.

We've all heard of Harry Houdini, David Blaine, and Criss Angel. But in last week's fantastic spectacle, the world was caught by surprise by the newest face in modern day illusion. Harry Potter (as photographed above) pulled a colossal rabbit out of his hat when he hacked into the digital broadcast system and told the world that magic exists. In the time it took for his audience to blink an eye over their afternoon tea, the now infamous illusionist managed to spring to life a hidden city, a castle, and a skyscraper seemingly out of nowhere. For a brief moment in human history, we all were caught by surprise. This stunt, which was not announced to authorities before attempting, could possibly be the biggest feat in Magical Illusion that the world has ever seen. While we all now know that this was an elaborate prank brought together by hundreds of people under Harry Potter's employment, it was still a sight to see as Police and Military personnel rushed to the scenes of the then thought of terrorist threat. Harry Potter was not available for comment, but we all are wondering: what magical feat will he accomplish next? Is a Las Vegas show in the works-'

"Put that away," Came the raspy voice of an exhausted Harry Potter, who took a seat next to her at his dining room table. He still wore his oversized t-shirt and pajama bottoms from bed, and his glasses hung dangerously off of his nose as he snatched up the newspaper and crumpled it up into a firm ball. "Not that I don't appreciate you tampering a few reporter's minds for the sake of every magical being in existence, but did you have to make me out to be a celebrity in the muggle world? It's bad enough being Harry Potter in our own."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said, nibbling at her toast. "But it was the only logical story that would fit the scenario."

"Thanks for staying with James last night," he added, buttering himself up a piece of toast as well. "Sorry we had to call you on such short notice…"

"False labor is common. I'm just glad Ginny's alright."

"Me too." He chewed on his toast, pensive. "Are you sure you want to go today? You don't have to be there. The Wizengamot's already heard your testimony-"

"No." She interrupted him, shaking her head. "I need to be there. This isn't just about the Ministry. It's about Ron. I need to see justice for him. I have to see it, Harry."

"Alright, Mione." Harry reached over and gave her hand a firm squeeze. "I'll be right there with you." His lips turned up in a warm smile, and she squeezed his hand back. There was a sound of fire crackling in the floo from the other room, and then the sound of shoes clicking against the floor could be heard as they approached the kitchen. Draco Malfoy leaned up against the kitchen doorway, adorning crisp, tailored dress robes that accentuated his lean frame.

"Thought I might find you here," he said, smirking towards Hermione. His eyes trailed over to Harry, and he gave a curt nod. "Potter."

"Malfoy." Harry returned the nod and leaned back in his chair. "Care for some toast?"

"Are you literally asking me to break bread with you?" Draco raised a cool eyebrow, but approached the table and took a seat across from them all the same.

"It's just toast, Malfoy."

Draco reached over to the stack of toast that Hermione had cooked earlier this morning and plucked one from the pile. "Hey." He smiled to Hermione.

"Hey." She grinned back.

Harry looked between the two, rolled his eyes, and stood from his chair. "I'm going to go dress. I'll just… leave you two here… alone." He pressed a firm finger down in the center of the kitchen table. "We eat here." He made a point to scowl at Draco. "Remember that before you think about doing any funny business."

"Funny business?" Draco snorted a laugh.

"You know what I mean."

"I'll be a peach."

"Right. You better be." Harry removed his finger from the table and quickly took off in the direction of the staircase, glancing back as he reached the first step to add, "I'm never going to get used to this." He took the stairs two at a time until he was up and out of sight.

"Oh, honestly…" Hermione rolled her eyes and set them on Draco again. Her heart gave a tiny jump in her chest. This last week had been full of interrogations, Wizengamot trial days, and repair of the Ministry of Magic. Not to mention the funerals. So many funerals, scattered at different times of the day throughout the week… She had made a conscious effort not to say 'sorry for your loss' through each one. Instead, she offered words of encouragement. 'Take each day at a time,' and 'Come over for tea and we can talk.' She had been so busy answering questions and giving testimonies that she and Draco had hardly gotten a moment alone all week. But here they were, alone in a kitchen, and she knew exactly what was on his mind besides Greg Diggle's sentencing today. When he had told her that he loved her, she hadn't said it back. And it wasn't as if she was entirely avoiding the conversation. Quite on the contrary. She had tried, really she had, but they'd been surrounded by so many people that the entire thing felt suffocating. And every time she had brought the words to her lips, they seemed to die away. It was one thing to be told you were loved. It was an entirely different experience to admit the same out loud.

"So…" Draco said, averting his gaze down to his toast momentarily. "Sleep well?"

"Hardly," she answered him, relieved that his first words weren't on the subject of her inadequacies as a girlfriend. "James was so worried about Ginny being in the hospital that he was up until three… Not that I'm complaining."

"Potter's wife not have her baby, then?"

"No. And her name's Ginny. You can call her that."

"Nah. Too informal."

"Right." She giggled, despite the awkwardness of their small talk. It was a nervous laugh; one that she couldn't avoid so easily. Soon, her giggle broke out into full blown laughs that echoed in the room. Draco's silver eyes quirked up at her, inquisitive.

"Did I miss something? What's so funny?"

"I… I don't know." She laughed so hard that tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Soon, they spilled over, and the laughing gave way to messy, broken sobs. Hermione was horrified, but she couldn't help the crying as she began to bawl into her sleeve. She covered her face, ashamed. "I… I guess… it's all hitting me today." She choked back a good sob and swiped angrily at her tears. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise to me. It doesn't suit you." He rose from his chair and took the one next to her where Harry had sat before. His arms came out and wrapped around her solemnly. Hermione tried to jerk away, but he kept his grasp and sneered, "Oh, come off it."

"W-what are you doing?" she asked meekly as he pulled her into his chest and began to rub up and down her back in small circles with his fingers.

"I'm hugging you. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I…" She remembered the first time she had hugged him, back when she had taught him how to cast his first Patronus. Inwardly, she smiled. "I know what a hug is." She chuckled through her tears. "But why are you hugging me?"

She saw the muscles in his face turn up into a playful smirk. "If you don't know that by now, you really are as daft as they say."

"No one says I'm daft."

"I do. I say you are."

"Oh?"

"Yes." One of his hands ceased its rubbing to reach up to her eyes and swipe away a few of her tears. "You are unequivocally the daftest witch I've ever known."

"And why is that?"

Draco opened his mouth to answer her, but tiny feet scampered through the hallway as James Potter, in all of his two-year-old glory, came bursting into the kitchens in his pajamas, shouting, "Hermy! Hermy!" The look on Draco's face was quite priceless; it was a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and amusement.

"Is that Potter's child?"

"I James!" The boy shouted, running to the table to scale the kitchen chair clumsily. James cast a frown in Hermione's direction. "Hermy cry?"

"Oh. I'm fine, James. Really." Hermione smiled, still wrapped in Draco's arms.

"Dis?" James pointed at the platinum blonde stranger holding his favorite babysitter in his kitchen. "Who dis?"

"I'm Draco," Draco answered, smirking as he set out his chin and offered his hand to the boy. "Draco Malfoy."

"I James!" The boy squealed, leaping over the table and shaking Draco's hand vigorously. Hermione giggled into her hand, her apprehensions forgotten for the time being.

"I think he likes you."

"I'd say so," Draco replied, relief spilling over his face when James released his hand and plopped back down in his chair, his eyes the only thing that could be seen over the enormous table. He reached up with his pudgy hands and stole Draco's toast. Draco looked as if he were about to say something, thought better of it, and instead shrugged.

"James Sirius Potter!" Ginny shouted, wobbling into the room with her large belly barely covered by her night shirt. "Did you wash your hands before you came to the table?"

James took a big bite out of his toast. "Noooooo? No, Mommy! No!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Ginny gave a sigh, turning her attention to Hermione and Draco. "Oh. Erm… hello." She stood a big straighter. "I didn't know we'd have company this morning."

"Dis Draco!" James told his mother, pointing theatrically at his new favorite person. "Draco my fwiend!"

"Is he?" Ginny quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "I'm not sure… Should we give him the test?"

"Test?" Draco squeaked out.

Hermione laughed. "Oh, go on Gin!"

"Right." Ginny smirked. "Alright, Malfoy. You're going to be stranded on a deserted island, and you can only bring three things with you, not including a wand. What do you take?"

"Seahows!" shouted James. "Seahows! Seahows!"

"James," Hermione said. "We've gone over this. You don't want to take a seahorse with you to a deserted island. What good would it do?"

"I ride it!"

"Actually, he has a fair point," Draco smirked, rubbing his chin. "Three things, not allowing for my wand. Hmm…"

"And there's no magic on the island," Hermione added.

"What?" Draco scoffed. "That's barbaric."

"Answer the question, Malfoy," Ginny smiled.

"Fresh water, obviously," he said, pondering. "Does the island have trees?"

"Sure," Ginny replied. "It can have trees."

"Alright… My second item of choice is Hermione."

"You can't take a person with you, Malfoy."

"You never said I couldn't." He stuck out his tongue childishly. "And you can't go making up rules as you go. So my second item is Hermione."

"Fine. Your final choice?"

Draco smirked. "Easy. Instructions on how to build a boat."

Ginny's smile dropped momentarily, then she raised her hands and clapped. "Alright. Impressive."

"Did I pass?"

"Hmm?"

"The test," Draco said, almost concerned. "Did I pass?"

"Oh." Ginny laughed. "The test was just to see if you'd play along. Yeah, Malfoy. You passed. With flying colors."

"Yay! Draco pass!" James yelled gleefully, slamming his hands onto the table and vibrating the silverware.

"James!" Ginny scolded.

"Sowwy, mommy."

Hermione's heart swelled with happiness in that moment, watching her family treat Draco as one of their own. And she was even more impressed when she realizsed that Draco wanted to be a part of it. He wasn't sneering or jostling or even using his rude quips. He was socialising in a way that humanised him. She reached up and touched his cheek, drawing his attention back to her. "Hey."

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

Draco's face flushed a brilliant shade of pink, and his mouth fell open slightly. He cleared his throat, sat up a bit straighter, and glanced around the room for just a moment before coming back to meet her eyes with his own. "Really?"

"Really." She leaned up and pressed her lips flush against his. She could feel the corners of his mouth tug upwards as he kissed her back. Hermione closed her eyes, running her fingers lightly across his cheek. Yes. This felt right. This felt like… like home again. Her heart had finally found a home to belong to once more, and it was with Draco Malfoy. Who would have thought? Breaking the kiss, she opened her eyes back up and stared into his. "I love you, Draco Malfoy."

He beamed with pride, smirking. "I love you too."

"Oh come on!" Harry exclaimed, startling the whole room. He was dressed in his work robes, which accentuated his abnormally pale features as he intruded on his best friend and his once childhood rival declaring their love for each other in his kitchen. He braced an arm against the counter to steady himself and shook his swimming head. "This is my home. My home! This is the one place that I thought I could escape… whatever this is." He motioned his hand to the two of them. "Do you two really have to declare your love for one another at the same place I eat at?"

"Harry," Ginny scolded, wrapping an arm around his middle to hug him. "Why don't you go into the living room and I'll fetch you a nice cup of tea? Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Yeah…" Harry nodded, glancing to his wife. "Yeah, that sounds great, Gin. Thanks." He looked back at the happy couple canoodling in his kitchen and scowled. "When we're working together in the Ministry, I better not see any of this, or I'll write the both of you up for public displays of affection." He gave an apologetic look to Hermione. "Just… give me some time for this to soak in, alright?"

"Sure, Harry." Hermione nodded, sliding into Draco's lap and wrapping her arms around his neck for good measure. "Whatever you say."

"Bloody fucking Hell." Harry wagged a finger at Draco. "You break her heart, and I'll break your shins. You understand?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother dear."

"Good. That's… that's good then." Harry turned and let his wife escort him out of the room, calling out to James to join them. James leapt gleefully out of his chair, waved to Draco and Hermione, and jogged out of the room.

* * *

"Gregory Diggle, you stand accused of murder, conspiracy, money pilfering, indignations against the Ministry, exposing the wizarding world to muggles, and treason. Is there anything you wish to say before the Wizengamot rules and decides your punishment?" Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt asked from his seat down to Greg Diggle, who sat in a plain, wooden chair with his arms chained to his legs.

Draco glanced over to Hermione, squeezing her hand tightly. Potter sat next to her on the other side, eyes narrowed and keen on Diggle's answer. Hermione gave Draco a timid smile and nodded that she was alright. They both turned their attention to the accused as he stood up and addressed the court.

Diggle cleared his throat, eyes scanning to each and every member of the Wizengamot. "The only thing I wish to say is to Miss Hermione Granger, if I may." His face turned in their direction, falling on the now trembling Hermione. It was so odd, Draco thought, to see her shake this way. She was such a strong woman. But he supposed, given the circumstances, having to face the killer of your spouse in a cordial setting such as court would shake anyone's nerves.

"Miss Granger?" asked Kingsley.

"I'll allow it." She nodded, straightening her posture and setting her eyes on Diggle's. "Go on, Greg."

"Thank you." Diggle gave an anxious sigh. He brought his hands up as far as they would go and offered them out to her. "I… I can't begin to apologise to you. And I'm fairly certain my words would fall on deaf ears should I attempt it. But…" He sighed again, hands shaking. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I let the Gray Magic consume me, and in doing so I cost you the one you loved the most." He swallowed a lump in his throat, green eyes glistening with resolve. "I let my past consume me as well. I just want you to know that before I never see you again… I want to thank you. For bringing me back from the precipice. It feels good to be myself once more, before I…" He glanced down to the floor, then back up, this time his eyes resting on Draco, who felt a pull in his middle like a sinking weight. "You aren't your father, Draco. I see that now." Diggle nodded affirmatively. "I will take my punishment with the utmost sincerity and humility." He flickered his eyes over Harry, Hermione, and Draco one last time. "Perhaps if I had been blessed with friends like you when I was most vulnerable, things would have been much different." He smiled sadly. "Thank you." He set his gaze back to Minister Shacklebolt and nodded once. "Continue, Minister."

Hermione sank back down in her seat, resting her head on Draco's shoulder as tears silently streamed down her cheeks. "I know I should feel happy, but…" She choked back a tiny sob. "It feels wrong, somehow, doesn't it?"

"No." Potter shook his head, whispering out of the corner of his mouth. "He killed Ron. He killed half of our Auror division. No matter how he feels about it all now, it still doesn't excuse his actions." His fingers were clenched on the underside of the bench as if he were fighting back all of his anger at once. "He deserves this, Hermione. You remember that."

Draco kissed Hermione's forehead, silently siding with Potter. Diggle might be reformed once he was untied from the Gray Magic, but that didn't mean that he should be let off of the hook for his actions. After all, Hermione still possessed the Gray, and she wasn't planning on slaughtering innocent people any time soon.

"If there is nothing left to say, Mister Diggle, then we shall proceed." Kingsley picked up a piece of parchment in front of him and read out loud. "The Wizengamot hereby finds you, Gregory Wallace Diggle, guilty of all charges. We sentence you to a lifetime in Azkaban. You're lucky, Diggle. Under my reign as Minister, I have abolished the ways of the Dementor's kiss. Had I not been Minister today, your fate would have been decidedly worse."

Diggle nodded slowly, heaving himself back down into his chair.

"That's it?" Draco muttered. "That's all he gets?"

"It's enough," Hermione replied, nodding. "It's enough."

* * *

Draco, Harry, Dean, and Hermione stood in Gregory Diggle's library, staring down at the Gray Book on top of the desk. The Ministry had finally been repaired, after nearly a month of hard work. Those who suffered magical loss from the Pandora Mines had recovered from St. Mungo's, and were back at their posts, including the elderly secretary Aeris. When they had first gotten back from that fateful trip in Greg's mind, the men had been quick to discover that Hermione, before her departure to find them, had set off each Pandora Mine inside her Gray Magic shield and released each of their Ministry counterparts from Greg's spell. Later, she had recovered the missing Pandora Mines spread across the country and disarmed them as well, all with the help of the Gray. It had become like a second skin to her, living inside of her happily. It grew stronger with each passing day as Hermione's mind began to heal from the battle with Diggle. And today, it knew that it would have to say goodbye to her. It purred inside of her, begging, pleading with her not to leave it alone again. Hermione could feel it clutch tight to her like a child to a mother's coattails.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Dean, strumming his hands along the desk. "I mean… that kind of magic could really come in handy at the Ministry, don't you think?"

"And if it got out of control?" asked Harry. "Remember what happened to Diggle."

"But that's because he fed it dark magic," argued Dean. "Hermione's feeding it love and all that. Isn't that right, Hermione?"

"Yes." She nodded, exchanging glances between Dean and Harry. Draco crossed his arms, not saying a word. He simply stared down at the book, a mixture of emotions etched in his eyes. "But if it's alright with you, Harry, I'd like to do something first, before I break my bond."

"Alright…" Harry said reluctantly. "What's that?"

"It's… personal." She smiled meekly to him. "Could Draco and I have the room a moment?"

Dean and Harry both raised their eyebrows, unenthusiastically agreeing to her request and stepping out of the room. When the door shut firmly behind them, Draco raised an inquisitive eyebrow, unfolding his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, stepping to him so that there was barely any space between the two. She reached out and ran her fingers over the black ink of his Morsmordre Mark. Draco closed his eyes, sighing at the touch. Hermione traced over the snake, up its long serpentine body and rested the pad of her thumb over the skull. "We still haven't found the stone," she said after a time.

Draco's eyes drifted back open, and he stared down at his Mark with her, thoughtful. "We will. I know we can."

"I know. It's just…" She stroked the image of the skull, earning a light gasp from him. "I know that you wanted a chance to remove this." Her eyes found his, and she softened her approach. "If you'd like… we could give it a go."

His face was unreadable, eyebrows pulled together as he read into every word she had said. Minutes passed before he spoke again. "You think it's possible?"

Hermione closed her eyes, listening to the Gray hum peacefully inside of her soul. "Yes. I do." She opened her eyes and smiled. "Would you like to?"

Draco reached up and stroked across the scarred words of her arm. "And what about you?"

"Me?" She asked.

"Your marks." His eyebrows furrowed. "Wouldn't you like to remove them?"

"Oh." She laughed, realizing. "It never really occurred to me." She stared over the M all the way to the D. "I suppose I could. But we're not on the subject of me, now. We're talking about you."

Draco's silver eyes slid up her arm, her neck, her lips and then to her face, reflective. "For a very long time, all I wanted was to remove this cursed thing." He gestured down to his arm. "But now…" He stared long and hard at the Mark before he pulled her close, so that they were nose to nose. "Now I think I could care less what the world thinks of me. It's what you think of me. And Scorpius. And perhaps, keeping something like this will remind me that I don't have to go down the path I've traveled for so long." He smirked. "Not when I have something to look forward to."

"So you're saying…?"

"It's a pass for me, Granger. Sorry. I think I'll wear my misery on my sleeve, thank you very much. I wear it so well." He gave her a wink.

Hermione laughed in approval. "Yeah. I think I'll do the same." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Never change, Draco."

His smirk gave way to a glowing smile. "Only evolve." He tilted his head and brought his lips right up against hers, brushing them softly against her skin to tease her. Hermione smiled, pushing her mouth on his and capturing him in a dominant kiss that made him stumble backwards momentarily. They wrestled for dominance for a few minutes, tongues colliding as they poured a bit of themselves into each and every kiss. Hermione could feel his heart, so warm and inviting, spill forth from his soul as he tugged tight against him and slowed the kiss to a crawl. Delicately, he pulled away from her lips and kissed her forehead. "Mine." He released her, and Hermione walked over to the Gray Book.

"Thank you," She told the Gray Magic as she placed her hand atop of it. "You were the real hero. We couldn't have done it without you." The Gray vibrated inside of her, wishing her goodbye. "And should we ever need to call on you again, I promise… I promise we'll come." The Gray magic hummed, then with a painful click in her soul, it released itself. Light, so pure and bright, poured from her fingertips and slipped back into the book. When it was over, Hermione felt empty, but fulfilled. She swallowed hard, nodded once, and patted the book. "Thank you."

* * *

"So what did you do with it?" Astoria asked as she poured everyone at the table a glass of wine. "The book?"

Hermione glanced around to the full set of company; to Harry, Dean, Luna (who were now dating, much to Hermione's delight), Ginny, James, Draco and baby Scorpius, who was happily sitting in his father's lap- and smiled. It was so nice, having them all here together. She exchanged glances with Harry, who answered Astoria.

"We tucked it away where no one else could use it."

"So you're not telling is what I'm hearing," said Ginny in a sing-song voice.

"Exactly." Harry smiled, pointing his fork at her.

Astoria took her seat next to Hermione and shrugged. "As long as it stays out of the hands of someone like Diggle, I'm satisfied."

"Thank you for inviting me, Dean," whispered Luna, tucking a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. "I was sure the gnargles had gotten to you when you never returned my dinner invitation."

"It was… something like that," Dean smiled happily. "But S'alright. I fought them off - gave em the old one two!" He jabbed the air playfully.

Draco smirked. "You honestly don't expect her to believe you, do you?"

"Well of course I don't believe him," Luna grinned. "But it's simply adorable to watch him lie, don't you think?"

The entire table laughed as Dean's face flushed. Hermione sat down her fork full of spaghetti and looked to baby Scorpius. "May I?"

"He's all yours," Draco said, handing him off. Scorpius now had fairly nice control of sitting up on his own, and he reached out for Hermione with pudgy hands. She sat him down onto her lap and kissed the top of his head.

"Well, he's not all yours," Astoria corrected, smirking over to Draco. "Let's not forget who the mother is."

"Believe me, Tori," Draco rolled his eyes. "No one's forgotten about you."

"No." Hermione smiled over to her new found friend. "We still need someone to change the dirty diapers, don't we?"

"Ha ha." Astoria sneered, but smiled all the same. Hermione and Draco exchanged happy smiles. It was a lovely evening indeed.

* * *

"I'm pleased to announce the newest inductees to the Auror Division," said Potter, reading names off of his notes at the podium in Diagon Alley to the bustling cameramen anxious to get a shot. "They have gone above and beyond the call, showing bravery, quick thinking, and above all else a dedication to the good of all witches, wizards, and muggles alike. Dean Thomas."

Dean shot up in his chair as Aeris Trudle approached him with his badge. He gladly took it and shook it in the air, exchanging glances with Luna in the crowd. 'Finally!' he mouthed to her.

"Hermione Granger."

The crowd lit up in a roar of applause as Hermione released Draco's hand and stepped forward to receive her badge. The smile that lit up on her lips made Draco's heart skip a beat. She was so beautiful in that moment; so strong and sure of herself. She knew where she stood in the world, and what she wanted to accomplish. Draco wished he could be so bold.

Potter's lips turned up in a smile as he read the next name. "Draco Malfoy."

There was a hush in the crowd as Draco stood and stepped forward next to Hermione. Murmurs sifted through the throng. He could already feel the scowls and unsure eyes trained on him. Potter broke away from the podium and took the badge from Aeris politely and presented it to Draco himself. Draco's chest squeezed tight, and he froze like a statue for a moment until Hermione nudged him in the arm. He came to his senses quickly, reaching out and taking the badge with a smirk. Harry Potter's green eyes glistened back at him for a moment before he approached the podium once again.

"Auror Malfoy is the best example to all of us that people can change. Despite his past, he risked his pride, his reputation, and his life for us all, as did Aurors Granger and Thomas. I'm proud to announce them today as full-fledged Aurors into the Ministry of Magic."

Draco's stomach did a summersault as the entire crowd lit up in cheers. He had never had so many people cheer for him at once. It stirred something in him - a sense of humility he hadn't felt before. He gave a lopsided smile and wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"We did it!" Dean shouted to the both of them. "It took me three years, but who cares! WOOHOO!"

"We did it," Hermione said, smiling up to Draco. "How do you feel?"

"Me?" He raised an eyebrow, shrugging. "Eh. Feels like a normal Tuesday, if I'm being honest."

Hermione jostled him in the stomach with her elbow, her face suddenly turning down in a solemn stare. "Is it Tuesday already? That means tomorrow is…" She inhaled deeply and chewed on her bottom lip. Draco knew that could only mean her mind was churning, but for what he didn't know. It took him a moment to realise, but when he did his eyebrows relaxed and he pulled her closer.

"Don't you worry, Granger." He smiled down to her. "It'll all be alright. I promise."

* * *

It was in moments like these, Hermione thought to herself, kneeling at her late-husband's grave with a pudgy sixth month old on her lap, when all the world could melt away. Scorpius's tiny fingers slipped up and touched the headstone, patting it.

"Ron," Hermione smiled. "This is Scorpius."

She felt a gentle hand touch her shoulder, and she turned her head up to see Draco's serene, smiling face staring down at her. He sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Hello, Weasley." He smirked to Ron's headstone. "I really didn't think we'd ever see each other again, but… here we are." He exchanged glances with Hermione as he rubbed the back of his head and continued. "I wanted to get a few things off my chest." He drew his knees up to his chest and sighed. "I'm sorry for getting involved with Cane. If I hadn't, you'd most likely be alive. And Hermione wouldn't have ever had to grieve for you. I take the blame."

"Draco…"

"No." He nodded to her. "Let me do this." He smirked at the headstone and continued. "And that's right. I call her Hermione now. Don't like it? Tough shite. I finally get why you fell for her. She's a real riot in the—OOF!" Hermione elbowed him swiftly in the ribcage, and he coughed. "Feisty. -As I was saying, Weasley, I'm… I'm going to take good care of her now. I promise, she'll never have to grieve again." He reached over, took Scorpius into his lap, and smiled. "Honestly, I've tried to get rid of her, but she's so attached to my son, you see…"

Hermione giggled. "Yes, he's really the only reason I stick around." She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled to Ron's headstone. "I'm alright, Ronald. I finally gave you your justice. I love you so much. I always will." She kissed her fingers and pressed them to the stone. "Rest, Ronald."

She stood, and Draco followed, Scorpius tucked up over his shoulder like a superhero. He spun him around a few times as his son giggled into the light of the setting sun. Hermione smiled. In that moment, her heart was so full. Eventually, Draco stopped spinning and laughed as he came to a halt, swaying with dizziness. Scorpius blew a raspberry, and Draco offered out his hand for Hermione to take.

"Ready?" He asked her.

Hermione glanced back at Ron's headstone, smiling, before she turned to Draco and took his head. "Ready." As they laced their fingers together and set to leave, Hermione hummed quietly to herself. "Sunshine daisies… butter mellow…"

* * *

**Ending credit lyrics: "Young Volcanoes" by Fall Out Boy**

**When Rome's in ruins**  
**We are the lions**  
**Free of the coliseums**  
**In poisoned places**  
**We are anti-venom**  
**We're the beginning of the end**

**Tonight**  
**The foxes hunt the hounds**  
**It's all over now**  
**Before it has begun**  
**And we've already won**

**We are wild**  
**We are like young volcanoes**  
**We are wild**  
**Americana exotica**  
**Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby? Yeah**

**Come on make it easy**  
**Say I never mattered**  
**Run it up the flagpole**  
**We will teach you**  
**How to make**  
**Boys next door**  
**Out of assholes**

**Tonight**  
**The foxes hunt the hounds**  
**It's all over now**  
**Before it has begun**  
**And we've already won**

**We are wild**  
**We are like young volcanoes**  
**We are wild**  
**Americana exotica**  
**Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby? Yeah**

**We are wild**  
**We are like young volcanoes**  
**We are wild**  
**Americana exotica**  
**Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby? Yeah**

 

* * *

**FIN.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sniffles* omg the cheeeeeeese. But a good sort of cheese, like mozzarella. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Thank you, every single one of you. My heart is so full by the wonderful world of fanfiction.
> 
> EASTER EGGS I left that hinted at Cane/Diggle being the SAME MAN Hehehe…  
> 1) Diggle and Cane have a very bad habit of using the word 'fetching'. From Cane describing Hermione as 'fetching' in the trial simulation, to Diggle's password snark that said 'you look very fetching tonight' to Hermione at the end of "Hatching a Plan." Diggle uses this to describe Hermione quite often.  
> 2) Their similarities of wanting to protect muggle borns, obviously.  
> 3) I described Diggle's attention to his breath and mouth quite a bit in this story. In the chapter 'Calm Before the Storm' Diggle's breath is described as a combination of cinnamon and toothpaste. Which, if you think about it, describes a candy cane. There's a part in "A Duel" where Draco is caught by Diggle's spell and Diggle leans in real close, and Draco's narration describes Diggle's breath to be like peppermint gum. Again, another candy cane reference. Hermione also thinks he smells like peppermints in "Date with Diggle, round 2". Which brings us to easter egg 4.  
> 4) Cane making his joke about the Candy Canes in "Team Trio". I think we can all assume that Diggle's peppermint candy cane obsession is entirely real. Probably in homage to his mother.  
> 5) In the simulation trial, Draco comes across Cane in the house made of candy. We were left to believe- was he really there? The answer to that is a resounding: yes, and no. Diggle most likely projected his image as Cane onto the simulation. But it would explain how Cane was able to pass through the Ministry undetected. Because he worked there. And was Diggle.  
> 6) When Diggle's eyes flash a brilliant shade black at the end of "Behind the Mask" (which in itself was a reference to Diggle flashing those mysterious Cane eyes), he's hinting to Hermione. As if taunting: figure me out. I want you to know.  
> 7) When Diggle confronts Draco in his cell at the beginning of "Gut Instinct", he's basically throwing all of his cards on the table to show Draco. While he doesn't admit to being Cane outright, he leaves hint after careful hint. "I thought you'd have figured it out by now. Oh well." "I wouldn't say 'work for' per say." "I'm not the cartoon villain that reveals all of his secrets."
> 
> There's probably plenty more, but we should all be very aware that in the boggart scene in Chapter 2, Diggle wanting Draco to show his biggest fear was him wanting to see if Draco feared Cane. When Draco backed out of the challenge, it frustrated Greg.
> 
> Okay, so I hope that helps! You can probably find more Easter Eggs, but those are the big ones!
> 
>  
> 
> Finally, I want to thank everyone, again, for following me this far. If you loved the story, click the favorite button. If you want to follow HTTYA2, click the follow button. Please, please, please, don't hesitate to PM me. I love talking to everyone. If you have any questions, concerns, ideas, or would like to chat, come to me. I'll be your sounding board.
> 
> Love always,  
> A.


	32. Dramione Awards Nomination! October 2016

**Hello, everyone! Normally, I don't do these A/N's after my story is complete, but I've got some wicked news! Today, I received this wonderful memo in my inbox:**

_Hello! I am an Admin at the Facebook group Dramione FanFiction Forum (18+ Only). During the month of_ October _we have been hosting the "Something Wicked This Way Comes." Fall 2016 Dramione Fanfiction Awards. Members of the group, as well a few others, participated in the nomination round and then a Semi-Finals round. During this process, stories/authors were compiled and then voted upon based on category. Five stories/authors have been selected for the ten categories to move onto the Finals. That's where you come in!_

 _Congratulations! You have been nominated and received enough votes to make it into the Finals round of the #SomethinWicked16 Dramione Fanfiction Awards! You have been nominated for the follow category(_ ies _):_

_Best Crime/Mystery Fic for How to Train your Auror_

_We want you to share your nomination with your readers and friends!_

_Voting for the Finals round goes from October 19th-28th so make sure to share immediately! Winners and Runner-Ups will be announced on October 31st. You can use the following link to share for voting: https:/goo.gl/forms/Rfr1KF2lvJ2g9fY63_

_Congratulations again, and good luck!_

_Sincerely,_   
_Julie_

**On that note, would everyone please go to the link and vote for How To Train Your Auror? I will delete this added chapter content once voting ends! This is the first time I've ever been nominated for a fanfiction award, and I am so happy it's for this story.  
~Much love,**   
**A.**


	33. Dramione Awards Nomination! October 2016

**Hello, everyone! Normally, I don't do these A/N's after my story is complete, but I've got some wicked news! Today, I received this wonderful memo in my inbox:**

_Hello! I am an Admin at the Facebook group Dramione FanFiction Forum (18+ Only). During the month of_ October _we have been hosting the "Something Wicked This Way Comes." Fall 2016 Dramione Fanfiction Awards. Members of the group, as well a few others, participated in the nomination round and then a Semi-Finals round. During this process, stories/authors were compiled and then voted upon based on category. Five stories/authors have been selected for the ten categories to move onto the Finals. That's where you come in!_

 _Congratulations! You have been nominated and received enough votes to make it into the Finals round of the #SomethinWicked16 Dramione Fanfiction Awards! You have been nominated for the follow category(_ ies _):_

_Best Crime/Mystery Fic for How to Train your Auror_

_We want you to share your nomination with your readers and friends!_

_Voting for the Finals round goes from October 19th-28th so make sure to share immediately! Winners and Runner-Ups will be announced on October 31st. You can use the following link to share for voting: https:/goo.gl/forms/Rfr1KF2lvJ2g9fY63_

_Congratulations again, and good luck!_

_Sincerely,_   
_Julie_

_(Please remove the * in order to access the links since .net does not allow us to share outside links.)_

**On that note, would everyone please go to the link and vote for How To Train Your Auror? I will delete this added chapter content once voting ends! This is the first time I've ever been nominated for a fanfiction award, and I am so happy it's for this story.  
~Much love,**   
**A.**


	34. Dramione Awards Nomination! October 2016

**Hello, everyone! Normally, I don't do these A/N's after my story is complete, but I've got some wicked news! Today, I received this wonderful memo in my inbox:**

_Hello! I am an Admin at the Facebook group Dramione FanFiction Forum (18+ Only). During the month of_ October _we have been hosting the "Something Wicked This Way Comes." Fall 2016 Dramione Fanfiction Awards. Members of the group, as well a few others, participated in the nomination round and then a Semi-Finals round. During this process, stories/authors were compiled and then voted upon based on category. Five stories/authors have been selected for the ten categories to move onto the Finals. That's where you come in!_

 _Congratulations! You have been nominated and received enough votes to make it into the Finals round of the #SomethinWicked16 Dramione Fanfiction Awards! You have been nominated for the follow category(_ ies _):_

_Best Crime/Mystery Fic for How to Train your Auror_

_We want you to share your nomination with your readers and friends!_

_Voting for the Finals round goes from October 19th-28th so make sure to share immediately! Winners and Runner-Ups will be announced on October 31st. You can use the following link to share for voting: htt*ps:/*goo.*gl/for*ms/Rfr*1KF2lv*J2g9fY*63_

_Congratulations again, and good luck!_

_Sincerely,_   
_Julie_

_(Please remove the * in order to access the links since .net does not allow us to share outside links.)_

**On that note, would everyone please go to the link and vote for How To Train Your Auror? I will delete this added chapter content once voting ends! This is the first time I've ever been nominated for a fanfiction award, and I am so happy it's for this story.  
~Much love,**   
**A.**

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand, END SCENE. *Bows head*
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. This is going to be a slight mystery story, as well as a growing relationship between Hermione and Draco. Their friendship/potential romance will take time, so I hope you will join me on this journey. Once again, thank you for your time, and please leave a review if you enjoyed this first chapter.  
> ~A.


End file.
